Vows
by lizzie056
Summary: FutureFic: Some prices are just too high, no matter how much you may want the prize. The one thing you can't trade for your heart's desire is your heart. Clois & Clana
1. Nostalgia

* * *

_Dear Reader,_

_You are cordiality invited to the wedding and union of_

_Miss, L. Lang_

_&_

_Mr, P. Ross_

_To be held at 2:30 on February the 14__th__ 2012 in Smallville Chapel._

_Reception to follow._

* * *

_Prologue:_

A cold winter wind blew ­­across the state of Kansas. Dead leaves swirled over porches in miniature whirlwinds. In one small house in one small American town the ghostly fingers of a beech tree tapped softly on the windows, as if asking to be welcomed into the warmth of the indoors.

In a bedroom two adults sat, cuddled on the delicate violet bed, around them lay scattered lists, magazines, cards and photographs. The man finished writing on one of the cards and passed it to the beautiful brunette sitting next to him. "Here, what d'ya think?" He grinned.

"Well," His partner looked the card over. "If anyone asked, we can say Laura wrote them." She laughed.

"That's the plan." He said back, picking up another blank card. "So, the future Mrs. Ross, how did the dress fitting go?"

"Well, the future _Mr. Lang,_ it was great. The dress is perfect, and Laura loved her flower girl outfit so much; I had to fight her out of it. They faxed the bridesmaid details to the stores in Metropolis and Sydney." Lana said. "I hope Chloe and Lois like them."

"I'm sure they will." Pete said, enveloping another invite and placing it in a pile on the bedside table. He caught a glimpse of the bedside clock. "I'd better go sort Laura out; she'll be falling asleep on the couch again."

"Tell her I'll be in in a minute to say goodnight." Lana called as Pete headed out the bedroom door. Sighing, she put down her own pile of invites and picked up the old high school year book at the end of the bed. She smiled as she flicked through the old memories, while she cringed at others knowingly. Her fingers stopped at the 'voted most likely section.' _Voted most likely to be a cover girl._ She smiled, looking at the picture of her younger self. _Maybe not._

She traced the pictures of the 'most likely to become a world-class journalist', 'most likely to become a football star' and the little scribble Lois had drawn in the corner labelled, 'most likely to become a political prisoner.'

She smiled down at the youthful faces of her three best friends, and at the ignorance of those who had cast the votes.

Chloe had eventually given up journalism to pursue a career as a novelist, a career that had very swiftly taken off with her first best seller, 'Tales From Nowheresville'. The critics had called it the new Harry Potter, people who knew Chloe called it a selective auto-biography, to which Chloe would just smile and say, "Well, aren't all great stories."

Lois _had_ ended up as a political prisoner, but not of the State as she had always protested. After leaving Smallville, she had gone on a one woman crusade to Afghanistan to prove her worth to the Daily Planet; the details of which she described in her Pulitzer Prize nominated article, 'Behind the Mask of Terror', which was only outdone at the last minute by the President's inter-marital liaisons; a grievance she had recently put to rest with the scoop of the century, which led Lana to look down on the final smiley youth staring up at her from the page of the yearbook, and then to the silhouetted figure gracing the front page of the Daily Planet. Lana had known Clark since they were both three and felt both privileged and proud to be able to call him a friend and God Father of her child.

Smiling graciously, she closed the book and hopped off the bed to say goodnight to her three year old daughter.

* * *

**A/N:** The reason behind this story is simple. I wanted to write a story that couldn't really be classed as Clana or Clois. I wanted to show that you can have a Clois fic without sacrificing Lana, and vice-versa. Bear with me on this.

**Disclaimer: **One of these days, I plan to rule the world so then, and only then, will anything in this fic belong to me. Currently I don't own a thing.


	2. Renaissance

_'All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy;  
For what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves;  
We must die to one life before we can enter another.'_

_Anatole France_

* * *

_God I hate forest fires. _Clark sighed inwardly has he stood, slumped in the Daily Planet elevator, noting the implicit irony that _he_ should have to wait in the excruciatingly slow lift while it made its way up to the bullpen. _I could have got up there in a tenth of the time this inept machine is taking._

Secretly though he was pleased of any respite. Forest fires had been savaging Spain now for over a week, and every time one had been put out, two more had sprung to take its place. The Spanish Emergency Service was stretched to its limit, and there was only so much he, or rather Superman, could do. For all his powers, he couldn't fight nature, no matter how much he wanted to.

After what seemed like a lifetime, but at the same time no time at all, the elevator doors finally opened. Giant robots, killer mutants, extra-dimensional beings all seem to pale into insignificance when faced with the chaos that is Monday morning in the Daily Planet main editorial office.

_Who'd be a journalist?_ He thought to himself. _Someone who's always asking himself questions._ Himself answered. _God, is that the time?_ Clark had sneaked a quick look at his watch. _Perry's gonna kill me._ He sighed as he made his way towards his desk, bracing himself for the onslaught.

He weaved through the various cubicles until he found the messy three walls he proudly called his own. Looking over the array of articles pinned to the walls a sudden thought dawned on him, as did a brief smile. _Chloe would be proud of this._

His musings were suddenly cut short by the booming voice of his editor-n-chief.

"What the hell do you call this?"

Clark walked round to the cubicle opposite his, trying to work out how to excuse his lateness. "Chief listen I know, I'm sorry but there was this…oh..."

Perry White's gruff little body wasn't facing Clark at all, and it certainly wasn't the Kansas farm boy he was addressing.

_She's got her hair tied back in a bun, mustn't have had time to wash this morning. Probably stayed up all night watching the news reports._

"It's called an article chief. That's what I do. I'm a journalist, I write articles." Lois answered. She really was worn out. Somewhere between a two and a half hour phone call with Lana, _Where does that woman find time to breathe, _typing up her story, finalising her flight tickets to Smallville and back, _and_ watching the constant news updates from Europe Lois had managed a measly two hours of sleep last night. It was starting to show.

"I asked you to write a report on the forest fires, not go on a one woman eco rampage." Perry screamed, waving the morning edition of the Planet like a war banner.

"You asked me to look into the root causes of the fire." Lois retorted. "I think global warming is probably a very strong link and, as such, so is the _cause_ of global warming. Did you know that America is the largest producer of Carbon Dioxide in the world!"

"Did you know that 99.999 pre cent of our readership is American." Perry gasped, looking like he was on the verge of a heart attack.

"Well then perhaps it's time we started acting instead of just reading." Lois finished, in a manner that demanded that the topic be closed.

"Why can't you just write articles about men in tights like Cat?" Perry sighed as the walked off back to his den.

"I see he's in a good mood then." Clark laughed whilst perching himself on the desk next to Lois.

"As good as can be expected." She smiled back, stretching as she did. Her cherry red jacket slid down to reveal her slender but strong arms as she moved to tie her hair back tighter. _It's darker than it used to be._ Clark reflected. Indeed, Lois' once light brown hair was now a rich ebony, perfectly complimenting her celtic blue eyes, framed by her matured and beautiful features. Clark wondered how he could ever have looked at Lois and not been in awe of her inner and outer beauty.

He ran his hand through his own, relatively shorter hair and adjusted the unnecessary glasses resting on his nose.

"What's up Smallville?" Lois asked turning her eyes to Clark. Her voice a seemingly impossible mix of concern and indifference.

"Nothing." He lied. "Why?"

"Because you look about as good as I feel." She answered back. "Rough night?"

"Something like that." _She's gonna take that the wrong way._ He thought suddenly. Indeed, the look that flashed across Lois' face did seem to show disapproval, and possibly, jealousy. _If she only knew the truth._ He sighed to himself.

"Well, I wondered where you'd got to. I tried to ring you five times last night." She said, not quite as dismissively as she would have like.

_Crap, why did I tell him that? Now he'll know I was trying to ring him. Why was I trying to ring him? God I hate you Kent. No I don't. Yes I do. No I don't. Oh, Christ, not again._ Lois put her hand to her forehead, somehow Clark always managed to make her head swim. _He blasted you! He was a stuck-up, insensitive prick! But he's not like that any more. Time and tide. Don't do this to yourself again Lane!_

Fortunately, Clark didn't notice Lois' change in disposition as he was fighting his own internal struggle. His conscience was telling him that saving lives and helping broken families was far more important than waiting on the phone for Lois Lane to ring. A larger, more frustrated part of him was telling his conscience to shut the hell up.

"So, what where you ringing for?" Clark asked, trying to sound casual.

"I just wanted to know how the hell you managed to land that Flash interview." Lois snapped back.

_Oh_ Sighed that frustrated part of Clark. _Ha!_ Said his conscience, which was taking on quite a few Lois traits itself. "We have a mutual friend." At least that was _partly_ true.

"Oh." Was all Lois could muster, as something flashed in her eyes.

Things hadn't exactly been running smoothly between Lois and Clark's _other_ half lately. In fact, things hadn't been running particularly smoothly between Lois and either of Clark's halves for just over a month now.

Ever since Superman had told Lois that it wasn't safe or fair for either of them to pursue a relationship, she'd been considerably more withdrawn. The simple fact of the matter was that it would be hard enough to see Lois sad even if she was just Clark's best friend. The fact that he'd literally move mountains just to see her smile made it close to unbearable. Just to confuse matters more she couldn't tell him why she was so depressed, and he couldn't tell her that he knew why she was so depressed. Your head hurting yet? Good.

Actually, Clark had often since reflected, on the night he'd flown down to her balcony to tell her that they could never have a relationship, (not while he was in that guise anyway,) she had been rather sweet. Very sweet in fact by Lois standards. She'd said that all the powers and abilities were just superficial, and that she was really just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to love her.

Flying away that night had been the hardest thing Clark had ever done in his life. But still, when he'd been just a boy, standing in front of a girl, Lois had said no and turned, albeit solemnly, away. _Only Lois Land could make a man jealous of himself._ He thought with a bitter humour.

"So, has Duckface picked out a dress yet?" Lois asked, eager to break the uncomfortable silence that had settled.

"What?"

"Duckface. I presume you're taking her as your guest."

_Pete's wedding, right._ "Duckface has a name." He said for what felt like the nine-hundreth time.

"Yes, Duckface."

"You make it so hard sometimes. And no, Celina isn't coming."

Celina Kenwright, daughter of one of the Planet's most successful stock-owners. Blonde, beautiful, sweet, innocent and totally head over heels in love with _Clark Kent_. But still, the one thing she was not was Lois Lane…

"So, no date then?" Her voice again a strange mix of indifference and hope.

"I thought it was customary for the best man to go with one of the bridesmaids." She can't argue with that he thought hopefully.

"Well." Lois continued, whilst logging off her computer. "Lana will be one bridesmaid short if I don't get down to the shop to get my dress fitted. Something I should have been doing," She glanced down at her watch. "Five minutes ago. You'll never guess what colour it is." She added, teasingly.

"Nice to know some things never change." He grinned back.

Lois rechecked the contents of her handbag and started to head towards the elevator.

"See yah, Smallville." She called back with a wave of her hand.

"See you later, Lois." Clark sighed, not loud enough for her to hear.

* * *


	3. Foundation

'_Fiery the angels fell.  
Deep thunder rolled about their shores…  
Burning with the fires of Orc.'_

* * *

_Two weeks later._

* * *

Copies of every newspaper from the Daily Star to the Gotham Gazette littered the makeshift desk. A solitary light bulb shone down on the newsprints, illuminating the flecks of dust that filled the damp air.

Every paper was open on the same story. The dates read back two months. The heading of the political section of the Daily Planet read 'Ross Elected as Kansas Congressman.'

Scattered amongst the various the articles of press lay blue-prints, shipping bills, flight receipts and a year book, which was open on a page displaying a year photo. One of the occupants of the photo had had a red ring scrawled around his head, and a letter opener implied in his chest.

Beside him were scribbled the words, 'truth and justice for all'.

* * *

Chloe lugged her bags through the arrival's lounge. They seemed to get heavier every time she made the journey home to Smallville.

She stopped for a moment to take off her sunglasses and look around her. Everywhere she looked people where dragging suitcases to and for, parents were trying to keep their children under wraps, and late passengers were rushing to the nearest exit.

_It's good to be back,_ she smiled. Sydney made a great home, but nothing could quite compare to Smallville. This was her beginning, her foundation. It was here she'd made her best of friends, here she'd discovered the woman she really was, it was here that her inspirational roots lay. Nothing could compare to that.

She started moving again towards the exit, catching a glimpse of herself in a highly polished window. Smallville mightn't have changed much but Chloe Sullivan certainly had. Her once pale skin was now a healthy tan and her short bob now came down to her shoulders. She smiled at the confidant young woman smiling back at her and continued to walk, only to be stopped after a couple of paces.

"Miss. Sullivan, could I please have your autograph?"

Chloe looked down at the eager face of the young girl who had just walked up to her. She couldn't have been older than six. In her hand she offered Chloe a Barbie-pink pencil and a paperback copy of her first book, 'Tales From Nowheresville: Welcome to the Wall of Weird.'

"Sure." Chloe answered as she knelt down so she was level with her young fan. "What's your name?" Chloe said sweetly, taking the book from the child.

"Bethany. Bethany Prior." The little girl answered with a beaming smile.

"Well, Bethany, did you like the book?" Chloe gently closed the paperback and handed it back to the child.

"Yep." Bethany answered with an enthusiastic nod. "My favourite's Melanie because she's the smartest. And I liked that Charles took her to the dance at the end, even if the big scary monster came and spoiled it. Are they going to be together now? Because I hope they do because I don't like Louise because she cries too much and she shouldn't be with Charles."

"Really?" Chloe was fighting back a fit of laughter. She loved her younger fans; they were always so blatantly honest. "Well, I'll tell you a secret." She leaned in close and put her hand over her mouth so only she and Bethany could hear. "Charles doesn't end up with Louise."

"Really." The young girl's eyes lit up. "Then does he stay with Melanie?"

"No," Chloe answered, perhaps a bit too solemnly. "Can you keep a another secret?"

The little girl nodded ecstatically.

"Well, he wants to end up with Lizzie."

"Who's that?"

"Melanie's cousin." Chloe explained. "But you'll have to wait for book five before that happens. Okay?"

"Okay." Bethany smiled and than skipped off back to her parents.

"Don't ask me where Melanie ends up." Chloe sighed to herself, as she picked up her bags and continued to walk.

* * *

A dark figure walked into the room, crossing straight over to the rundown desk. He started sifting through the various contents. His eyes were puffy and red from lack of sleep. He had been masterminding this for almost two months and now the time of action was nigh. He looked at the year photo, the tag line read, 'Freshman Year 2001.' A wicked grin flashed across his sharp features. He lightly traced over some of the members of the photo with his fingers. On the back of his hands, he bore two identical scares, one for each hand. It looked as though something had pierced right through the flesh.

He dropped the yearbook back down on the desk and lifted up a small piece of tissue paper. He handled it carefully, this was the most important piece of equipment he had. He read it over and over until, finally, he placed it delicately back on the table.

He turned from the desk and left the room. Around his neck, he wore a crucifix, on his back he wore a red and yellow football jacket.

* * *

"Mmm!" Pete exclaimed as he wondered into the kitchen. "That smells delicious. What you cooking?"

"Roast duck in sour cherry sauce." Lana said proudly, as she poured red wine into the sauce. "Chloe sent me a message to say she'd just arrived and I figured, after a ten hour flight she'll probably want something more than just salad and fries."

"Well, don't try and impress her too much." Pete joked as he wrapped his arms around Lana's waist. "We'll never get rid of her."

"That's my maid of honour you're talking about." Lana retorted in mock annoyance, but she was cut short as Pete spun her around to kiss her passionately.

After a while she pulled back, still smiling. "Well, that was certainly unexpected." She laughed. "But not unpleasant. We'll have to put that off too until Chlo's gone."

"Why, Chloe's a big girl and after all, she's only here to see _our_ wedding." Pete pointed out.

"Yes, but I don't think she'd be too happy if we were at it all the time. Now go and pick your daughter up from your father's. And give Clark and Lois a call, make sure they had a safe flight." She called over her shoulder as Pete made his way down the hall.

"Lana," He called back. "This is Clark and Lois we're talking about. Do you really think they're going to have anything _but_ a safe flight?"

* * *

The figure closed the door behind him and turned to walk down the desolate hallway. No paintings graced the stark, white walls. No images of false idols, no temptations of desire. They were pure, and kept those who walked down them pure. Pure, good, honest, virtuous.

No corruptionists here, only purity. No conflict, only orthodoxy. No pain, only deliverance.

* * *

"New York to Kansas in just under two hours. Oh, the joy and wonder of the low fares airline." Lois exclaimed. "Or at least it would have been under two hours if someone hadn't made us miss our flight!" She spun round and glared at Clark, who was currently sitting on one of the many uniformed departure lounge chairs.

"There's only so many times I can say sorry." He glared back, the ferocity of his stare by no means obscured by his designer glasses.

"And yet, somehow, I never get tired of hearing it." She retorted. Clark let out an exaggerated sigh and went back to the Daily Planet crossword. _Fifteen across, opinionated, eight letters… Lois Lane._

Lois continued to stand with her hands in her pockets, rocking on the balls of her feet. Being stuck in an unbearably hot, chaotic airport was not her idea of fun. Instinctively she began looking around for anything newsworthy. Unfortunately, though, frustrated executives and bored children hardly counted as breaking news. Disillusioned, she flung herself down on the empty chair next to her partner, leaning over obtrusively to look at the puzzle.

"Inclined." She said pointedly.

"What?" Clark sighed.

"Fifteen across, inclined, as in, opinionated." She slipped back down onto her own chair. "And you put a Z instead of an S in Lois."

"Oh," A faint blush crept across Clark's strong features. "You weren't meant to see that." He tried to explain.

"Smallville, you should know by now, I see _everything._" She mocked.

Clark smiled. _You want to bet on that?_

"Soliloquy." Lois suddenly piped up.

"Huh?"

"Seven down, a long speech in which a character expresses his thoughts out loud on stage." She explained. "A soliloquy."

"How would I ever have coped without you?" Clark laughed as he filled in the final missing letters.

"To cope or not to cope-that is the question." Lois sighed as she watched Clark's hands intently. _God, he has beautiful hands._ _No, snap out of it._ She gave herself a mental slap across the face. _Not this time._

"Whether t'is nobler in mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, or take arms against a sea of troubles." She finished.

"I thought you hated Hamlet." Clark teased openly.

"I do." She answered passionately. "Bloody insufferable males who can never get a thing done. And, speaking of insufferable males, _you_ still haven't told me what was holding you up."

_A North Korean cargo ship was sinking off the coast of Japan._ "Celina phoned." He lied dully.

"Oh, Duckface rang." Lois' voice rang with sarcasm. "Well, that makes is all perfectly acceptable then. Yes, we're now three hours late, but that doesn't matter because Duckface rang."

"I'm guessing that executive stress ball Perry got you for Christmas isn't working then." Clark inquired, seemingly innocently. He was really just eager to get Lois' mind off Duckface, that way lay madness.

"Well, it kind of didn't help that I threw it at Jimmy." She admitted. "It's worrying when your _boss_ starts giving _you_ items of stress relief."

"That's why Jimmy had that black eye." Clark said as the realization suddenly dawned on him. Lois nodded. "Huh, told me he got it down in the Slums."

"Well, he told Cat he got it while rescuing a puppy from a bunch of junkies, so I think you got off pretty lightly." She laughed.

"Poor old Jimmy, he never catches a break." Clark shook his head as while Lois continued to chuckle.

Then, suddenly, at the back of his mind Clark heard something, no louder than a gnat, but just as persistent. He leapt up quickly.

"I need coffee." He said while turning to face Lois. "You need coffee?"

"Nah, I'm good thanks Smallville." She smiled back.

"Right, I'll be back." He said quickly, then headed off, in the opposite direction to the coffee shop, a fact Lois duly noted. _Bloody Duckface. _She sighed while picking up the discarded paper.

* * *

The figure walked into a dark booth. "Forgive me Father for I have sinned."

"Please, tell me my child." A benevolent voice answered. "What troubles your soul."

"I have, _entertained_, impure thoughts about a woman." The figure replied. "About _the_ woman integral to our plans. I just couldn't help it. I saw her photo, I used to know her, and then suddenly…" He broke down in a sob, unable to continue.

"John, John." The priest soothed from behind the screen. "You were right to tell me of this, you have always been such an obedient disciple, and for that the Higher Powers will soon reward you. But I'm afraid we cannot let this go unpunished. You have allowed the Devil into your heart, we must beat him out. Do you understand?"

"Yes," John exclaimed. "I shall of course resign myself. The Devil shall no longer hold dominion over me." He picked himself up and walked out of the booth. The priest came out of the other side to great him. He took John by the hand and smiled warmly at him.

"You really are one of our best pupils John, do not let this set back dishearten you. Our plan will soon be complete. Our word will soon by law. We shall wipe the filth from this land and start afresh. Now, doesn't that sound wonderful?"

"Yes Father." John smiled, then walked away to meet his redemption.

* * *

"Just carry on down this road till you get to the lights." Chloe instructed the cab driver. "Then take a right."

She leant back in her seat and smiled as a wave of memories washed over her. There really was no place like home.

"Not really the kind of place I'd choose to take a vacation myself." The cab driver called back, trying to make conversation. "Still, each to his own."

Chloe sat up suddenly, realizing she was being spoken too. "Oh, no." She laughed. "Not a vacation. It's my friends' wedding. They're holding it at the chapel." She explained.

"Ah yes, Ross' wedding. Geeze, how'd a geek like that land a babe like Lana?" The cab driver whistled.

"I did say my _friends'_ wedding. As in plural." Chloe said with annoyance. She leant back into her chair and gazed out of the window. As far as she was concerned, the conversation was now over.

"Hey, calm down Sweetcheeks, there's plenty of me to go around."

"Do you have to be so obnoxious?" She replied angrily. The driver's only answer was a mischievous grin. _Yeah, well, if my cousin were here she'd wipe that smile right off your face._ Chloe amused herself with a mental image of just what exactly Lois would do to this smarmy taxi driver. Certainly, it wouldn't be pretty.

It would be good to see Lois again. It had been almost a year since to two cousins had met up. She wondered at how much her older relative had changed in that time.

"Chloe Sullivan." The cab driver suddenly exclaimed.

"Huh?"

"Chloe Sullivan. I've been trying to put a name to that face since you got in. You used to be the editor for the Torch." He said in his gruff voice.

Chloe's face suddenly lit up. Maybe this wouldn't be such a tedious journey after all. "That's right. You read the Torch?"

"Read it? I loved it. A great laugh. Greg Harrison, I used to play full-back for the school team." The cabbie said proudly.

_Yeah, and look where it got you._ "Really? You know, I think I remember." Chloe fibbed.

"Yeah, I was the best. My and the guys _loved_ your stories, we'd read them after a win. Meteor Freaks, ha! Wherever _did_ you get that idea from?" He blurted out a huge laugh.

"It was all true." Chloe frowned. This was why she'd given up journalism. At the time people were not willing to except her views as fact, it was easier to pass them off as fiction, hence why she had become a writer.

"Yeah, well, I guess you're right actually. I mean, when you think about it, all these _Meta humans_ that have sudden popped up, some of whom aren't even human. And all these super-villain freaks. The whole worlds turned into some sort of Hollywood blockbuster. Still, just strange to think that Smallville might have something to do with it."

_Not as strange as you might think._ Chloe smiled as she turned back to the window.

* * *

"Smallville, will you stop fidgeting!" Lois screamed, earning a very dirty look from a passing airhostess.

Clark smiled a wicked grin. Winding Lois up was the only thing that was making this agonizingly slow flight bearable. It was also the only thing that was keeping him sane. Being in such close proximity to her was like a drug, enticing, dangerous, enticingly dangerous.

Her low cut top certainly wasn't helping matters either, especially as the hot air was making her skin glisten. He caught himself staring and quickly looked away, just before Lois noticed his line of sight.

"God, it's hot." She complained.

"Feels fine to me." Clark answered truthfully.

"That's because you're by the window."

"How is that going to make any difference in a plane?" He pointed out.

"I don't know." Lois admitted in a defeated manner. "It just does."

"How about a game?" Clark said enthusiastically, trying to lift both their boredoms.

"Do I look ten?" Lois snapped, fanning herself with the safety manual.

"Come on, it'll be fun." Clark teased. "I spy with my little eye something being with…P."

Lois looked around her. "People." She sighed. Clark nodded. "Fine, I spy with my little eye something also being with P."

"Plane." Clark guessed. This time Lois nodded. "Good." Clark added. "I spy…"

They both sat in silence, trying to think of something they could see other than people and planes.

"Well," Lois said after a while. "This is riveting."

"Have you got a better idea?" Clark questioned.

"Yes actually I have. Name Santa's reindeer." She challenged.

Clark couldn't help but laugh. Lois beamed with confidence, a confidence that she seemed to impart on other people too. It was hard to be close to her and not feel good.

"Fine. Dasher, Dancer." He started, goaded on by her warm smile. "Pracer, Vixen. Comet, Cupid, Donder, Blitzen."

"Yay." Lois cheered in mock celebration. "Now do one for me."

"Okay." Clark thought. "The seven dwarfs."

"Easy." Lois beamed. "There's Grumpy, Dopey, Doc, er, Happy, Slappy." She counted them down on her fingers. "Er."

"I thought you said it was easy." Clark mocked.

"It is." Lois protested. "Er… Junkie and Horny." She finished triumphantly.

"Sleepy, Sneezy and Bashful." He corrected.

"Close enough." Lois jeered. "Okay, you're stuck on a desert island, you've saved three CDs, three books and three films. What are they?"

"Have we really resorted to this?" Clark sighed. Lois nodded, again.

"Right, three CDs… R.E.M.'s In Time, Coldplay's A Rush of Blood to the Head and Joan Osborne's Relish. You?"

"Hum," Lois thought for a moment. "Don McLean American Pie, Nerina Pallot Fires and…er…Razorlight's Up All Night."

"Who?"

"They're this British band." She explained.

"Ah."

"_And all they know is how to put down. When you're there their your friends but then when you're not around, they say, oh she is changed, you know what they mean. Well they're mean, they're just jealous because they'll never do the things that they wish that they could do so well…" _Lois sang.

"This is going to be a long flight." Clark muttered.

"Yep." Lois said gleefully and continued to sing. She loved winding Clark up; it was the only thing that was making this flight bearable.

* * *

Nine braids of leather whipped into his skin, dicing through his flesh. They withdrew, only to fly back, this time with even more force. He swallowed an ear-piercing shriek. _Pain is good. Pain is the purifier._ He told himself, as the cat-o-nine-tails sliced into his flesh once more. _Pain is good…_

* * *

"Chloe!" Lana ran down the porch path and embraced her friend in a loving hug, which Chloe gladly returned. "It's so great to see you."

"You too." Chloe beamed. "You look great."

"Oh, thanks." Lana blushed. "You look good too."

"Yeah, well, as good as you can look after an eight hour flight." Chloe laughed. "Oh, hi Pete." She called as Pete walked down the porch path to greet her.

"Hey, Chlo." Pete smiled as he kissed her on the cheek, and then took his rightful place next to Lana, with his arm around her waist. "Good flight?"

"Can't complain." Chloe shrugged. "Where's my favourite God Daughter?"

"She's inside." Lana grinned. "And I think she wants her favourite author to read her a goodnight story."

"Well, we best not keep her waiting." Pete said as he picked up Chloe's bags. "You hungry Chloe?"

"You know, actually I am." She admitted as they made their way to the house. "You know what I could go for right now, salad and fries. Mmm." She exclaimed as she and Pete entered the house. Lana just stood in disbelieve. _Damn it. _She thought.

* * *

"Left my apartment for Metropolis Airport at three o'clock." Lois yawned. "Arrived in Kansas nine hours later."

"I told you, you should have slept on the plane." Clark pointed out.

"Well, it was a bit hard to sleep when that old man kept walking past me… With his hands in his pockets, and a grin on his face…" Lois shuddered. Clark just laughed. "Yeah, well, see if I laugh when pervey old women start stalking you."

"I'm sorry." Clark said earnestly. "I tell you what, in an hour or so you can sleep as much as you like. Deal."

"Okay." Lois yawned again.

"Come on Sleepy." Clark joked. "We need to get you into a taxi."

"Okay, Dopey." Lois said, fighting to keep her eyes open. "Lead the way."

She hooked her arm through Clark's, rested her head on his shoulder and allowed him to drag her to the taxi depot. Clark smiled at the drowsy little body leaning on his own, relatively larger frame. It was good to be back.

* * *

**A/N:** Just a couple of points. First off, I know that in the DC Universe Pete and Lana don't get married until after the Doomsday fiasco, and that they don't have a girl called Laura but a boy called Clark Peter Ross, (no points for originality.)

I also know that in the SV Universe Metropolis is in Kansa, but to be perfectly honest I don't give a monkey's. As far as I'm concerned, I'm taking some of the best elements from the DCU as well as the SVU and adding some of my own.

I hope you like the end result; I call it, _'the Zooniverse.'_

**Disclaimer: **I own an Elven blade, a Lightsaber and a 'S-Shield' ring, but apart from that, I own nothing.

* * *


	4. Echo

'_Immature love says: "I love you because I need you." _

_Mature love says: "I need you because I love you."'_

Erich Fromm

* * *

"$1.5 billion! $1.5 billion on an initiative that isn't even working. The government spends $1.5 billion on tackling vandalism and what happens? It increases by 48!" Pete leant back smugly into the cosy couch, Lana snuggled against his side. "We've got 'em on that one." He smiled.

"Wow," Chloe laughed with feigned interest, as she sat curled up on the armchair. "So, just how much have they spent Pete?"

The male member of the group just glared as the two women giggled. "And I mean, you're telling me this why exactly?" Chloe continued.

"Because apart from politics he has nothing else to talk about." Lana mocked, snuggling farther into Pete's side.

"Well, I _could_ talk about the two escaped hyenas that have somehow ended up in my living room." Pete said with annoyance. "Besides, I have lots to talk about."

"Oh yeah?" Lana challenged. "Like what?"

"Well, how about my marvellously attractive wife-to-be?" Pete joked, pulling Lana in for a fiery kiss. "Would you like that?" He asked off Lana gracious smile.

"I think I preferred politics." Chloe remarked.

"Oh, alright." Lana made a set of puppy dog eyes. Chloe just stuck her tongue out.

"How old are you Chlo?" Pete chuckled. "25 going on 6?" Chloe just snorted. "I'm sorry," He resumed. "I guess politics can be a bit dull if you're not involved."

"Don't be." Lana cooed, stoking his face. "Besides," She said, more cheerfully. "Politics is so instrumental to everything now-a-days, if you're not involved in it, what are you involved in?"

"And, to be perfectly honest." Chloe piped in. "I for one am all in favour of a bit of dullness. There's only so many times a girl can be buried alive, thrown off a tall building or experience any other number of near death experiences, before she starts liking the idea of a bit of dullness." She laughed. "I think I'll just leave the non-dullness to the experts."

"Speaking of experts, has anyone heard from Lois or Clark?" Pete said, joining in on the joke. " I wonder what time their flight came in."

"Oh, yeah." Chloe suddenly remembered. "I got a text off Lois a few minutes ago. I don't know why she still insists on using correct spelling and punctuation in her texts, I mean it's not like she can spell any…" Off Pete and Lana's unimpressed looks, "…But that's not important." She resigned. "All she said was, _"Plane just landed. Missed first one. Bloody Smallville. Will kill in morning, need sleep now."_" Chloe grinned. "Now _that's_ a fight I wouldn't want to get in the middle of."

"Yeah." Pete laughed. "Best part is, Lois would win." Chloe started laughing as well. Lana just sat in thought.

"Ha, eh… What's up Lana?" Her blonde friend asked when she realised that the attractive brunette wasn't joining in with the merriment.

"It's nothing really." Lana sighed truthfully. "I just think Lois could be a bit more accommodating." She admitted.

"It's not her fault." Pete said light-heartedly. "Remember before we all found out? We didn't half get pissed by Clark's sudden disappearances."

"I waited one hour once for him to get back from gabbing a coffee." Chloe remembered with a smile. "One hour! Turns out he was trying to saving Lex from a… er…" Chloe fell silent. Lana and Pete's heads had drooped.

"Funny how much things can change." Lana sighed. They sat in silence for a while, each lost in their own thoughts.

Eventually Pete stood up. "I'm gonna call it a night." He said, stretching. "Don't want to be falling asleep at the rehearsal dinner tomorrow. Not to mention I have to give Harry a ring, brief him on tomorrow's council." He turned to Lana. "Coming Sweetie?"

"Not just yet." She answered. "I think I'll go do those dishes, don't want to leave them until the morning." She picked herself up and walked into the kitchen.

"Right. What about you Chlo?" Pete asked, turning to his guest.

"Yeah, think I'll call it a night." Chloe said, getting up.

She hugged Pete goodnight and walked up the stairs. She tip-toed past Laura's room and crept into her own, makeshift bedroom. It was only when she had heard Pete close the door on his and Lana's bedroom that she allowed herself to register the look of regret on Lana's face.

* * *

"Is it just me, or does Smallville seem, smaller?" Lois remarked as she stepped out of the taxi.

"Typical city-girl." Clark sighed as he paid the diver, who just gave him a sympathetic smile and drove off. Clark laughed silently to himself and went to stand next to Lois on the Kent farm drive.

"It's more, yellow than I remembered." Lois observed. It had been over three years since she'd last seen the little farm, and, despite herself, she was glad to be back. She felt safe in Smallville, the sort of safe feeling she only felt in one other place, and that was in the arms of- No, she was leaving Metropolis and all its troubles well away for the weekend. She was going to be a good, attentive bridesmaid, with no problems of her own to distract her.

_Like Hell._

The porch light flashed on and a familiar figure appeared rushed down the pathway towards the young couple.

"Clark." The figure cried as she pulled her son into a loving embrace.

"Hey Mom." Clark laughed slightly taken aback.

Martha stepped back and looked her son up and down. "Honey you look thin, are you eating probably. You're not stressed are you. I told you not to work to hard. If that Perry White's working you too hard you just tell him, he'll have me to answer to. I'm not having any son of mine…"

"Mom, mom," Clark cut her off before she suffocated. "I'm fine. You remember Lois?" He nodded in the younger woman's direction, so that Martha could turn around. As she did, a kindly smile graced her face and she rushed over to the intrepid reporter, taking her in another warm hug.

"Remember, how could I forget? Lois, it's so good to have you back."

"It's great to be back Mrs. Kent." Lois gasped breathlessly; Martha was a lot stronger than she looked.

"Don't be silly dear, it's Martha. We're all adults here." Martha answered.

"Mom."

"Yes Clark?"

"Let Lois go." Clark smiled as he noticed that Lois was slowly turning red in the face.

"Oh, I'm sorry Lois." The older woman beamed at her younger counterpart.

"Don't worry about it Mrs. Ken…Martha." Lois shrugged. "I've had worse, trust me, it's nothing."

"Right, well." Martha continued, heartened. "We can't stay out here all night, waiting to catch our deaths. Clark, you bring those bags in. Lois, come on dear, we'll go in and get something warm to drink."

"I like the sound of that." Lois smirked, flashing a wicked grin at Clark. "What about you Smallville?" She called as her and Martha headed towards the house. Clark just smiled impenitently after the brunette.

* * *

Clark set Lois' suitcase down at the bottom of the stairs and headed into the kitchen and the enticing aroma of freshly-brewed coffee.

Two familiar laughs greeted him: one sweet and chirping, one tantalizingly magical.

"…So there's me and Jimmy, the whole building crashing down around us, and I'm like frantic looking for an exit and Jimmy turns round to me and says, 'do you think I should go for colour or classic black and white?' And I'm like, 'no Jimmy just no, complete wrong end of the stick. I'm not really that interested in you stupid photo just at this moment in time.'"

Martha let out another fit of laughter. Clark leaned on the doorframe and smiled. No matter how many times Lois told this story she always held her audience captive.

"Anyway, he got bonked on the head after that so denies the whole thing ever happened." Lois finished with a flutter of her hand. The older woman smiled cheerfully.

"I'd have thought you'd get tried of telling that tale eventually." Clark said as he went to join the rest of the group around the kitchen table, eyeing Lois' chocolate biscuit as he sat down next to her, the last one.

Lois grinned menacingly and started sucking the chocolate off the biscuit, agonizingly slowly, obviously trying to incite some retaliation from Clark. It worked, as Clark playfully made a swing for the biscuit, which Lois mischievously evaded. She giggled as Clark made another pass for her beloved cookie and as she masterfully dodged it once more.

Martha grinned an all-knowing grin as she looked at the young pairing. Lois had just successfully stuffed the whole biscuit into her mouth, much to the amusement of Clark.

Martha set her cup down and smiled. "I'm so glad you two have finally gotten together."

"Huh?"

"What?"

Martha looked between the two bemused young. "Well, I just thought. From what I'd heard, I mean, you two are a couple aren't you?"

"What? Oh, no Martha. Me and Clark are just friends." Lois said, too light-heartedly for Clark's liking. _Just friends, of course. Why would we be anything else?_ He sighed solemnly.

"Well, it's just from Clark said." Mom-Kent began before she was cut off.

"Why, what did Clark say?" Lois asked, sliding an inquisitive look to her partner.

"Nothing." Clark said firmly, the look on his face telling his mother that this was a no-go area. Unfortunately, Martha was buying into this theory.

"What's he not said? Let's see. Well there's how smart you are, and talented and funny and such a good writer. And he told us all about the work you did down at the hospital in the children's ward, and getting the city to build all those shelters. Oh, and of course how good looking you are." Martha smiled reassuringly at the younger woman. Lois could feel the hot blood flushing her cheeks. Clark had merely resigned his head to his hands.

"But I'm sure you don't need me to tell you that." Martha smiled apologetically at the two and then headed up the stairs, leaving Lois and Clark to their own uncomfortable silence.

"Well, your mom's right about one thing." Lois remarked after a while, eager to break the tension.

"What's that?" Clark inquired, lifting his head up.

"I am an uncommonly good person." They both managed an embarrassed smile. This would never do, Lois couldn't stand feeling embarrassed, and it certainly wasn't fair to Clark either. "Just out of curiosity Smallville," She said teasingly. "How good looking? On a scale of one to Wonder Whore."

"Those Amazonians have nothing on you." Clark grinned. Contented that the awkwardness had passed Lois leapt to her feet. "That's good enough for me." She exclaimed. "Well, this wonderfully attractive, talented woman is heading off to bed." She yawned. "You headin' for the couch?"

"In a bit." He answered. "Night Lois."

"Night Smallville." She called over her shoulder as she strolled up the stairs.

* * *

The congregation sat, gathered in the main assembly hall. Like the rest of the building, the walls were stark and white and those who sat within them were of similar attire. Grey for those not yet fully purified, white for those who were.

Colour was forbidden, as were the emotions reared by it. Purity was all that was reared here; the rejection of Evil and Temptation and the embracement of the Good and Virtuous.

These were the beliefs held by the _Sons of Liberty_, a cult of the highest puritans who regarded pleasure as more than just suspect. To them the simple joys of modern society seemed more like blasphemy, distancing the human soul from its divine maker.

The more sordid aspects of contemporary culture was treated with such dissent that it broke the boundaries of language.

This was their way, and they met to confer about how to make it _the_ way.

* * *

Clark lay half awake on the living room couch. As much as he tossed and turned sleep just would not come. At six foot four, he had more than outgrown the old settee years ago, but it wasn't this that was keeping him awake. Only the ceiling separated him and Lois, and that fact was driving him mad.

It wasn't her fault of course, Lois had been perfectly happy with renting out a hotel room, but Martha just wouldn't have it, she'd insisted that Lois come stay with them while she was in Smallville. And so, just like old times, Lois was sleeping in Clark's room, Clark having been relegated to the living room couch. But now, unlike old times, it was taking every ounce of will in Clark's being to stop him looking up through the flimsy floorboards and gazing at her as she slept. Well perhaps gazing wasn't the right word. She'd be wearing that old tartan shirt she had _commandeered_ off him all those years ago. The one that, when worn by Lois Lane, made the Man of Steel fell like a nervous schoolboy. Just one glimpse underneath that shirt, that's all it would take to settle him. No one would ever know that the champion for righteousness was no better than a…

_Shameless stalker_, Clark resigned himself to thinking. No, it was Lois' choice as to who got to look under that shirt, even if by her own admission, she often made the wrong choice.

He rolled over onto his side. At least the night had pasted without event, which was one thing to be grateful for, although, the distraction would have been welcomed. Clark closed his eyes, and tried to locate a familiar rhythm, but it was not where it should be. Lois's heartbeat wasn't coming from his room, it was coming from…

"Smallville, you awake?"

He opened his eyes and looked up. Lois was standing over him; her hair ruffled, her shirt crinkled, her presence divine. Clark sat up, throwing aside the sheet, only to remember himself.

"Yeah," He answered sleepily. "You seen my glasses?" A motor biking accident in Kazakhstan had made eyewear compulsory. Clark pretended to be looking for the glasses in question, forcing himself not to ogle at Lois, when a sudden thought struck him. _Upstairs, bathroom cabinet. Bugger. _

Lois meanwhile sat down on the couch next to Clark, her arms folded protectively across her chest. "You won't need them." She sighed. "I just want to talk."

"Okay." Clark answered, thankful for the darkness. "What about?"

Lois was playing with the buttons at the bottom of her shirt, drawing Clark's eye line progressively down. She looked up suddenly, staring Clark straight in the eye. Her lips curved into a seductive grin. "Us." She breathed.

Suddenly she was on top of him like a flash, kneeling over his waist, pinning him to the settee. She leaned down so that her chest was pressed against his. "We've been doing this dance for too long." She said alluringly, as her hands found their way under his t-shirt. The protest Clark was about to launch never made it past his lips as Lois' hands brushed over his chest, his strong muscles tingling at the sensation of her flesh on his.

"Lois, I really don't think-"

"Don't think Smallville." She teased. "Just do."

There was nothing he could do; Lois had hindered him in a way that no amount of Kryptonite could ever imagine. But she was determined to do more. Her hands slipped down from his chest, down to the waistline of his sweatpants, and began tugging them down. "This isn't fair." She moaned. "You get pants and I don't."

She soon evened out the inequality, smiling at the obvious effect she was having on Clark. She brought her hands up over his muscular thighs, as she leaned up closer to his face, placing small kisses around his strong jaw line. As their lips met, she allowed his tongue to slip into her mouth.

Then, suddenly Lois let out a wonderful moan of ecstasy as she felt Clark fulfil her. "I love you Clark Kent." She gasped.

"I love you Lois Lane." Clark breathed into her mouth, as his hands in turn found their way underneath her shirt.

So, this was what perfect bliss felt like.

Lois felt herself float. She whispered. "I love you Kal-El."

_Huh? _

Clark's eyes shot open, as he fell six feet down onto the settee. He caught himself just in time to ensure that the couch didn't shatter on impact. _So much for just a phase._ Clark sighed as he spun himself round and came to rest on the edge of the settee. _Only a dream._ Dejected, he let his head fall into his waiting hands. But it had seemed so real. _Her eyes, her touch, her smell._ He sighed again. "I need some fresh air." He threw the blanket onto the couch and headed outside.

* * *

_The helicopter dangles ominously from its wire net, the cables hooked around its struts like black snakes around a branch. In the ferocious wind, the large, metallic body crashes against the side of the building it hangs from. _

_Rain lashes down as the hassled police try to clear the area below; the cable won't last long. _

_Inside the pilot lies unconscious, his only passenger held in by her seatbelt alone. S__he looks down her side to the street, terrified but determined. Not for her a plummet to the death._

_She looks up past the unconscious pilot to the edge of the roof. She has one chance. She unbuckles her safety belt and, slowly, tries to crawl over him. Despite her efforts, the movement causes the helicopter to shift its position. With a sudden lunge, it flies down twenty feet, until the final cable twangs it to a halt. Sparks fly. It holds together by a thread. _

_The woman tumbles back with the movement, falling out the door. She grabs her unbuckled seatbelt at the last minute._

_Below her, the crowd screams as she dangles from the copter, holding on to her seatbelt for dear life. Her eyes closed, she mouths a silent prayer. The helicopter suddenly lurches once more._

_The wire snaps; the copter falls. Her eyes welded shut she doesn't scream, her stubborn morals holding out until the end, she merely resigns herself to the waiting ground._

_Then, as suddenly as it had started, the falling sensation stops. A strong arm embraces her, holding her close, not daring to lose her. Then, a potent voice awakens her. "Don't worry, I've got you." It says._

_She dares to open her eyes, unable to comprehend if she is still alive. The rain on her face tells her she is. But the face she is greeted by angelic in its righteousness, godlike in its power and comforting in its presence. A face she is sure she knows, but from where she cannot think, like a memory in a dream. _

_She shows her relief, her delight and her immeasurable thanks in the only way Lois' mind will allow. _

"_You've got me? Who's got you?"_

Clark smiled at the memory as he stood by the barn window. Outside the stars glistened comfortingly on the last son of Krypton, as the full and silver moon shone down on the small farm. It had waxed and waned six times since that night when he had first caught Lois, but the remembrance was still as vivid. The look on Lois face as she had tried to place a name to a face, his own relief when she had failed to do so.

But that was then, this was now. Now he would give anything for her to have said, _"Smallville!"_ It certainly would have solved a lot of problems, the most immediate of which being that Lois truly and deeply loved Superman, but saw Clark as nothing more than a brother-figure.

_Well, what else do you expect?_ He scolded himself. _You made her believe you're two different people. You made us believe we're two different people. You're suffering from a Gollum complex. You don't even know who __**you**__ are anymore. _

He sighed and turned his gaze back towards the heavens. Besides him, the old telescope stood unused, Clark found he could see better without it.

He grinned at another memory as his keen ears picked up a familiar footstep. He turned round to face Lana just as she was climbing the final stairs up to the barn balcony.

Lana smiled sweetly as she realised she'd been caught. "No point in trying to out snoop a snoop." She laughed.

"I'd always preferred professional meddler." He said walking over to her.

Lana caught her breath, she knew what Clark would say next, but the truth was, she didn't know why she had come to the barn this late. She'd never known why. All she knew was that part of her, a big part, still needed to be here. She needed the comfort, she needed the security, she needed the love. She needed the one man who had given her all of that.

"I know it's late." She said quickly, pre-empting Clark's question and causing a small smile of amusement to grace his features. "And I know I could have waited until tomorrow," She continued in a rush. "And that you're probably tired and that Lois is obviously asleep, but it was just so hot in the house and I couldn't get to sleep, and I just started walking and…"

"Lana, Lana." Clark laughed, cutting her short. "It's fine. It's great to see you."

"Oh," Lana sighed, obviously relieved that there would be no further questions. "I mean, it's great to see you too."

They embraced warmly, each taking comfort in the other's presence.

"I'm guessing Pete doesn't know you're here." Clark said as he pulled back.

"Well, not really." Lana admitted, blushing slightly under his gaze. "He has a lot on his mind at the moment," She started to explain. "And I didn't want to disturb him if he's finally having a decent night's sleep. Between the state's plans of legalising corporal punishment and the problems with his mom I didn't think…"

"The state's thinking of legalising corporal punishment," Clark joked, his eyes lighting up mischievously. "You'd do well to keep that one from Lois."

"Yeah," Lana laughed, recognising her mistake. "To think, I've been side-stepping the subject around Chloe and then go and blurt it out in front of Metropolis' top reporter." She beamed up at him.

"Second best." He corrected with a smile, something suddenly not reflected in Lana's face.

"You shouldn't let her make you think that." She said sternly. To sternly for Clark's liking. Years ago it would have been Lana defending Lois from Clark's misgivings, but times change. But that was the strange thing about Lana and Lois, they were friends without really liking each other.

"It's the truth though." He answered plainly. "Lois does actually have to do some investigating to get her stories. And, besides," Clark added with a smirk. "Even if it wasn't true, I wouldn't want to be the one to tell her."

Lana's face remained strangely impassive, as if contemplating something she didn't want to believe.

Finally, she said, "You love her, don't you." She looked up to Clark's face for the answer, it told her all she needed to know.

"I just wish the feeling was more mutual." He sighed, turning back to face the window. "Still, how often does it happen that a person tries to have the best of both worlds and ends up with nothing in either." He laughed sombrely.

"I think she's a fool if she can't she what I can." Lana offered, while trying to hide her increasingly obvious feelings. _I still love you Clark._ Her mind spoke it, but her mouth didn't.

"I'd like to think she does." He said resignedly. "Just not in the same person."

"Well, if it were me," She softly walked over to him and, placing her hand on his shoulder, said. "I'd rather have Clark."

"I don't even know who Clark is anymore." He laughed, half-heartedly.

"But I do." Lana cooed, taking his head in her hands. "Clark's the little boy who used to stand on his porch and stare at the little girl across the street, afraid to go up and talk to her."

His hard resolve melted with her tender touch. "Her necklace didn't help matters much." He attempted a smile.

Stroking back a curl that had fallen down onto his forehead, Lana murmured softly. "If she'd had know she'd have taken that necklace off years before."

"He still wouldn't have had the courage to go up to her. Trust me, I know him pretty well."

"So do I." Lana answered, taking a step closer to Clark so that her soft body cuddled next to his stronger being. Her beauty in the moonlight was over powering. Her entire body seemed to glow. Her glorious hazel eyes gazed up into his potent blue ones. Her lips looked succulent, tender and safe. Clark suddenly wanted more than anything to kiss those lips, but he held back. More than anything…

"And, I can't help to wish," Lana whispered. She was so close now that he could feel her breath on his lips. "I can't help but wish he'd spoken to me sooner. Everything could have been so different." Her lips were now hovering just below his.

"Yes," He sighed. "It could have." More than anything? "But it isn't." Clark pulled back, and, catching the look of failure on Lana's face, he added. "I'm sorry you wish it was."

"So am I." Lana said. Her embarrassment complete, her eyes starting to water. "I'm sorry Clark." She wept. "I shouldn't have… It was wrong of me to think that…"

"Lana."

"Yes?" She chocked.

He took her in his arms and hugged her as she curled herself into his body, tears streaming down her face. "Clark's not here." He muttered.

"I know." She whimpered. "I just wish he was."

He stroked her hair as she continued to weep, clinging onto him like so many others did. He knew that at one time he would kissed Lana and never let her go. But one time was not this time. He was not that little boy anymore, though part of him wished he was.

"So do I." He whispered. "So do I."

* * *

**A/N 1: **A lot of this chapter is based on a conversation my friend Mathew and myself had. We were discussing the difference between Superman and Spiderman when Matt came up with a very valid point. The main difference, he said, is that Spiderman puts a mask on to fight evil; Superman takes his mask off.

This then is a shout out to Matty, thank you for the inspiration.

**Disclaimer: **Same old, same old.


	5. Hegemony

'_To be governed is to be watched over, inspected, spied upon, directed, legislated at, regulated, docketed, indoctrinated, preached at, controlled, assessed, weighed, censored, ordered about. Such is government, such is justice, such is morality.'_

Pierre-Joseph Proudhon

* * *

The rest of the night had passed sleeplessly for Clark. Lana's hysterics had settled eventually and she had been immovable in her conviction to walk home by herself, eager to hold on to what was left of her pride. Clark, however, was finding it infinitely hard to put the night's events behind him, and opted rather to put them into retrospect.

Lana had come to him lonely, needy and vulnerable, to have given into her would have been taking advantage, something he couldn't allow himself to do. No, his morals had won out, once again, and, once again, it was probably for the best.

"_You know Smallville,"_ A familiar voice popped into his head. _"The difference between a moral man and a man of honour is that the latter regrets a discreditable act, even when it has worked and he has not been caught." _He thought about Lois' aura when she had told him that, and wondered, if it had been she who had come to him confused and vulnerable, would he have had the strength to turn her away.

He sat up, the clock on the mantle place said it was ten past six. The cockerel would start crowing soon, ready for the new day of work. Had Lois not been there Clark would have gladly picked up the slack on the farm, but things hadn't worked out that way. Still, Clark was happier than he was able to admit at having Lois so nearby. Her heart beat was an immeasurable comfort, even if its constant fluttering told him she had never quite settled down to sleep, something he was sure to feel the consequences of.

He picked up the remote and quietly turned on the news. While the headlines confirmed that his help hadn't been required during the night, they still didn't make for happy reading, but like Perry always said, "Good news doesn't sell."

A scuffling sound, swiftly followed by a muffled bang, which was in turn swiftly followed by a muffled curse, told him he wasn't alone.

Clark looked up to the upstairs landing to see Lois leaning on the banister at the top of the stairs, vigorously rubbing her shin, her _commandeered_ tartan shirt exposing more than she would have usually allowed it. She looked like a vision, or at least, as much like a vision as is humanly possible after two sleepless nights.

"Bloody bookcase." She muttered indiscreetly.

"And a good morning to you too." Clark called up, as he put on the unnecessary glasses and made his way to the bottom of the stairs.

"Bah!" Lois grunted as she hobbled down the stairs, helped down the last two by Clark's outstretched hand.

"Is that a euphemism for, 'I got up on the wrong side of the bed'?" He coyed.

"Try fell." Lois muttered as she hobbled over to the couch. "Out of, and into… My suitcase." She smiled as she realised her own folly. "Guess that could have been my own fault, for kinda not cleaning up probably." She threw herself unceremoniously down onto the couch. "Please, feel free to contradict me at any time." She added.

"We both know that's a loaded statement." Clark smiled as sat down next to her.

"Yeah well…" Lois sat for a moment in total concentration. "Bah!" She exclaimed eventually. "To early to think of a witty come back. What time is it anyway?" She squinted at the onscreen news ticker, "Ten past bloody six." She mockingly sobbed. "Why can't I sleep? Why? Why?"

Clark also cast his eyes down to the news ticker. "Well, the good news is Mrs. Miggins found her kitten."

"In this world of war, pestilence, famine and death, it would have been more sense for it to have stayed lost."

"I see you're in your usual happy, cheerful mood this morning." He teased.

"Shut up." Was all the reply Lois could think of. "Need coffee." She muttered suddenly. "Must have coffee. Will go get coffee. Will go get coffee right now…" Lois' voice was more determined than the rest of her. Clark watched her as she remained seated, waiting for the inevitable.

"…Smallville?"

"Yes, Lois?"

"Can you give me a hand up?"

Clark smiled as he stood up and heaved Lois to her feet.

"Thank you." She said, swaying to stay on her tired feet.

"Lois?"

"Yep?" She replied sleepily.

Clark put a hand to her shoulder to steady her. "Lois, would you like me to make the coffee." He said earnestly.

Lois smiled. "I think we both know that's for the best." Lois' coffee making record was surprisingly poor for someone who had worked in a café for two years. Smiling Clark hooked his arm around her shoulder and led her into the kitchen.

* * *

"So," Martha said, placing her mug of coffee on the kitchen table. "What's the plan for today then?"

Across the table, a much caffeinated Lois was tapping her pencil irritably on her notepad. "Well, the council begins at two." She explained. "It's three hours in the car and it's ten thirty already." She looked up at the ceiling. "What's taking Clark?"

"He'll be down soon." Martha covered. "I just, er, asked him to fix the shower head."

"That boy's too gullible by half." Lois mumbled more than a little annoyed by her partner's reoccurring disappearing acts. "Typical." She sighed getting up off her seat. "More coffee Martha?"

"Just tea thanks dear. So, I didn't think State Council's were your and Clark's particular forte."

"They're not." Lois continued, handing Martha her tea. "But the great thing about Perry, he spends all his free time telling you to take a vacation, and when you actually ask for time off, it's on the basis that you cover some obscure event that nobody else is about to. Still." She added. "That's why we love him."

Lois took another sip of her coffee, looked down at her watch, frowned and took another sip. "They say too much of this stuff can be bad for you." She smiled.

Martha smiled back, and then slowly started to word the thoughts that had been troubling her. "Lois, about what I said last night…"

"Huh? Oh, _that_. Really Martha, it's nothing." Lois said comfortingly.

"Well, that's the problem." Martha carried on, undaunted. "It's not nothing. Clark he's… He's very fond of you." The older woman placed it delicately.

"I know." Lois answered simply, much to Martha's surprise. "And I'm very fond of him, but just not in that way, and it wouldn't be fair of me to make him think that. I'm sorry." She said as she noticed Martha's face drop. "I know how much you love him."

"Thank you." Martha said, reaching over to take Lois' hand. "And, who knows, maybe one day you will too."

Lois smiled sweetly and then, remembering herself, said, loud enough for anyone upstairs to hear. "Only if he bother's to turn up on time."

* * *

"A, B, C… D… er…" Laura looked up at Chloe past her breakfast bowl. "…E?"

"Yep!" Chloe grinned down as the little girl beamed with pride. "You know what comes next?"

"Yeah." Laura nodded enthusiastically. "F, G, H, I, J, K…"

"Okay, okay." Chloe laughed, cutting the little girl off. "You win, you win. You know more of your alphabet than I did at your age. Who's your teacher?"

"Mommy!" The youngster both answered and yelled as Lana wondered into the kitchen, kneeling down as Laura came racing up to her.

"Hiya honey." She said in a sing-song voice as she embraced the little three year old in her arms. "Did you have a good sleep?"

"Yeah, cause I had this dream and it was about yours and daddy's wedding and there was this big castle and I was a princess, but I didn't like being the princess, but anyway it all was good at the end and it was a really, really good wedding and everyone was really happy and there was this huge pink cake!" Laura finished with a flurry.

Chloe and Lana exchanged an amused glance, and then Lana turned back to the little girl. "Well," She smiled. "Let's hope it all turns out as well as in your dream." Then, mother and daughter traded another warm hug and, upon letting go, Laura ran off into the living room, for a date with Sesame Street, leaving the two adults in the kitchen.

"Pete left to go pick up his mom." Chloe said as Lana poured herself a bowl of cornflakes. "He said he didn't want to wake you."

"How did he seem?" Lana asked as she sat down.

"Determined." Chloe said truthfully. "He really wants this to go well."

"I know, and I love him for it." Lana smiled simply. She stared down at the cereal in her bowl. The last thing she felt like doing now was eating. No, the last thing she felt like doing now was counting down the hours to her rehearsal dinner. She felt like a fool, a selfish, callous, degraded, pathetic fool. How could she have done what she did? She had a beautiful daughter; a wonderful fiancée and she had tried to seduce a love long lost. But no matter how much she tried to deny it, how much she hated herself for it, the fact was inescapable, she still loved Clark, and the guilt was tearing her up inside.

"Hey, you okay?" Chloe had noticed Lana's far away look, and was becoming increasingly concerned about her friends well being.

"Yeah, great." Lana recovered quickly. "Just a bit nervous." This seemed plausible enough. "What time are the caterers coming?"

"Two o'clock, just to confirm the menu." Chloe answered spiritedly, pleased for some official maid of honour business.

"Great." Lana said. "And then it's on to the restaurant for six?" Chloe nodded. "Great." Lana confirmed. "Great." _The show must go on._

* * *

Lois scribbled thoughtless nothings on her notepad as Clark slowly sipped his coffee. In the gallery below local representatives argued out their cases to the various members of congress. A young fair-haired man sat behind the name plate bearing the inscription 'P. Ross' filling in for the absent member. Above the gallery, various other members of the associated press sat disinterested and disheartened.

In the settled silence, the mundane sound of the snap of lead seemed almost deafening.

Lois looked dejectedly at her broken pencil; it was the final straw.

"What's the point? I mean what is the bloody point?" Clark looked up at the sound of her muffled outburst. "Why has he sent us here? Why? Why?"

"I think this is Perry's own special way of saying never leave again." Clark remarked with a side glance. Lois had a point, as far as slow news was concerned, this was almost fossilised. "He said he though there might be some more, _controversial_ issues."

"And would a homicidal reporter rank as _controversial_ enough for you?"

"Come on, it's not _that_ bad."

"You see that guy at the back there." Lois gestured with her head. "He's been asleep for thirty minutes now."

"Are you angry because he had the cheek to fall asleep, or because you _can't_?

"It's not my fault the folks next door to my apartment are always at it like rabbits." Lois snapped back. "What did that guy say about cake?" She added, looking down.

"I think it was Senate."

"Oh Christ." Lois yawned, drooping her head. Clark glanced over at her; she was certainly looking worst for wear.

"Look, Lois." He sighed. "I hardly think Perry's gonna be to upset if we call it a day."

"Thanks Smallville, but I intend to be entirely professional about this." She smiled. "I'm going to write the best damn boring article ever. You see I have this theory about politics."

"Really?" He grinned.

"Yeah, well, I find it's more than just a coincidence that the word '_politics_' is derived from the word '_poly_' meaning '_many_', and the word '_ticks_' meaning '_blood sucking parasites_.'"

Clark just laughed. "You really did break the mould didn't you?"

"No Smallville," Lois smirked. "I am the mould. Everyone else is just a cheap knock-off."

* * *

"…And they sing as it were a new song before the throne, and before the four beasts, and the elders: and no man could learn that song save the hundred and forty and four thousand, which were redeemed from the earth. These are they, which were not defiled by women; for they are virgins. These are they which follow the Lamb whithersoever he goeth. And in their mouth was found no guile: for they are without fault before the throne of God…" A deep voice boomed out over the congregation.

They stood as if to attention, soldiers lined out in rank of virtue; Priests, Clergymen and footwashers, each one looking up to their exalted leader with love, devotion and allegiance. Each one blissfully unaware that they were the victims of mass brainwashing, totally dependent on the Authority for almost all major life decisions. And each one of them fully willing to commit martyrdom in order to punish the violators of God's law. Together they are the epitome of humanity's greatest threat, itself.

"My Brothers!" The Authority cried out from atop his podium. He was a man whose status did not fit his stature. He stood little and plump, his thinning white hair covering only half his head. His cheeks were warm and rosy, and he was decked out in the purest white. The perfect front for an imperfect society.

"My Brothers!" He cried again, his audience captivated by his every word. "Mankind has come to cross roads, the forces of Satan now run amuck throughout the globe. Mother's slaughter their unborn babies, men come into close personal contact with men, and young girls sell themselves up to the devil with the highest price, and yet outside society glances over this with a carefree eye. But still they cry and scream when the greater devils come out to wreak their havoc, and the Infidels beg for false idols in the guise of saviours. Men run to slightly clad whores for deliverance, and woman swoon over deceiving male saviours who do not have the strength of faith to give unto the Lord those who need punishing the most, and are thus just as wicked in their cowardice.

And as such, my Brothers, it falls to us to deliver mankind from its own evil. God has spoken to me and He says that our time has come. God's chosen people will be His weapon in the battle against the forces of Evil. The End is nigh; the world must be cleansed before the Second Coming, and we are the ones to do it. The result will be a violent and bloody struggle - a war – but one that we will win with the Divine Father on our side.

To prepare for these events you have all been trained in survivalist and paramilitary operations, or have gathered foodstuffs and supplies. And our most generous donator, lead by the hand of God, has provided us with weapons, ammunition and this wonderful old boarding hall in which we reside, isolated from the outside world and it's corruptions.

And it is in this wonderful environment that one of our most valued clergymen has prepared a plan so effective that it will for sure open the doors to our holy crusade. He has elaborated to my how we might go about bringing the world to our attention. He has identified two infidels most fowl, whose sins are to challenge the will of the Holy Father. What is more, one of these infidels is rumoured to have fornicated with one of the false idols, tainting the human pool in manner not seen since the Serpent first tempted the Mother of Mankind.

The final preparations must be made. Tonight we begin the will of the Lord. Brothers, holy war is at hand!"

An ample roar rose deafeningly from the congregation, and the Authority stood for a while, basking in the glow of admiration. Eventually he hoped down from his podium and headed out of the hall towards his office.

Once inside he slammed the door to, so that no one outside could see in. The office was lavishly decorated, the rich red and gold walls a stark contrast to the pale whites of the rest of the old boarding house. Only three people were allowed within these walls, the Authority, his helping hand, and the benefactor of the cult.

The Authority spread himself on the chair behind his desk, lapping up the immediate feeling of comfort. He turned to his helping hand. The young boy was a prime example of the effectiveness of his recruiting techniques. A high school drop out, the boy couldn't have been more than fifteen, an outsider who had finally found acceptance. His face was pale from a lack of proper nourishment, and his body thin from eating only porridge, a treatment all footwashers went through until they were probably purified.

"William?" The Authority said casually, in a voice very different to that which he used in front of his followers. "Please, give out gracious benefactor a ring." The young boy nodded and walked over to the desk, picking up the telephone. "Oh, and William." The older man added. "Tell Mr. Luthor everything's going according to plan."

hr

"…fluffy… er… killer bunnies… killer… er…" Lois mumbled quietly, her head resting on her arms, which were slumped over her notes.

"Lois. Lois?" Clark shook her gently by the shoulder, slowly waking her up.

"Uh, what is it Smallville?" She yawned.

"The council finished half an hour ago." He said softly.

"Oh… Crap…" Lois muttered, getting to her feet. She looked up at Clark's amused face. "You know, in Metropolis I sleep like a baby!"

"Somehow I find that hard to believe." Clark smiled, playfully dodging Lois' low swung punch.

"Fine." She laughed with mock curt. "But just remember Kent, one of these days when you're least expecting it I'll get you, and your little dog too." She smiled, taking him by the arm. "Come on farmboy, you're driving my back."

* * *

**A/N:** The Sons of Liberty are a fictional cult, and any resemblance to an actual organization is purely by chance. I would like to make it very clear that the views of the cult are **not** my own, and are in fact about as different as possible to my own beliefs. Finally, the offence is meant to any Christians or members of other religions. The inclusion of a religious extremist cult is merely my way of trying to give the mythos some contextual depth in the 21st century. In the words of Oliver Goldsmith, '_Don't make us make imaginary evils, when you know we have so many real ones to encounter._' If you don't like it, you don't have to read it.


	6. Maiden

'_Time is too slow for those who wait, _

_Too swift for those who fear, _

_Too long for those who grieve, _

_Too short for those who rejoice, _

_But for those who love, time is eternity.'_

Henry Van Dyke

* * *

The quaint Italian restaurant in the heart of Smallville had been decked out to all its splendour. Creamy white lilies lined the walls, silk banners hung lavishly from the ceiling, and the tables shone with sliver, gold and crystal. Music floated softly down through the room, as the rich aroma of pasta sauce filled the air and watered mouths. Wine flowed like water into waiting glasses, sparkling in the warm candle light.

Guests slowly started to fill the room, all done up in their finery. Lana and Pete stood by the entrance, greeting their various friends and family members. Together they glowed with radiant warmth, meeting each new-comer with welcoming smiles as they were thanked and congratulated.

Chloe drifted silently between tables, looking for a familiar face, the red liquid in her glass perfectly complimenting her red, satin dress. She caught various snippets of conversations; jocks reminiscing about times-gone-by before their backs had given way, honour-role students oozing smugness over how much better they had done for themselves than anyone else. At the very back of the room, Chloe noticed a thin young man, standing all alone, nervously playing with the crucifix around his neck. She found herself about to go over and speak with him, when she was timely distracted.

Two figures eloquently crashed through the swing doors that lead to the kitchen. One of them was tenaciously trying to pull on her shoe while she snapped at the other, who was hurriedly trying to straighten his tie. Even as she looked at them, Chloe had to catch her breath; the two adults couldn't have appeared more different than the two teenagers she remembered. They both seemed to glow with significance and confidence, and that despite their ruffled clothes.

"You took your time, didn't you?" Chloe called over as she walked towards her two friends.

"We got caught in traffic." Clark explained, grateful that for once his excuse was valid. Chloe beamed up at him and then turned to Lois, who was still struggling with her shoe.

"We weren't caught in traffic." She said as she triumphantly pulled on the stubborn shoe. "We were doing just fine until we got back to Tinyville and got stuck behind the fossil in dinosaur."

"She was just old." Clark rationalized as he handed Lois a glass of white.

"No Clark, Roman architecture is old. She was a public health hazard."

Chloe smiled, content with the knowledge that perhaps Lois and Clark weren't _that_ different after all. "Well," She started pleasantly. "The important thing is that you're both here and that you both…"

"Look like we got dressed in the back of a car?" Lois piped in knowingly.

"I was actually gonna let that one slide." Chloe laughed, helping herself to a handful of olives, she watched Lois swig down her glass of wine. "It's to make them think we've been here longer." Lois explained.

"Pete and Lana still at the entrance?" Clark asked. Both he and Lois had come to agreement that it was best to sneak in the backdoor, it had hardly seemed fitting for the best-man and bridesmaid to arrive late, and in various states of dress, plus the fact that Lana and Pete wouldn't have been too happy.

"Mmm, yeah." Chloe answered through a mouthful of olives and cheese. "Oh, and Pete's mom's looking after Laura."

"The perfect crime." Lois beamed smugly as she downed another glass. She smiled triumphantly as she poured herself another glass, which Clark matched with an arched eyebrow as he knocked back his own drink. Chloe suddenly felt very isolated as the two reports shared an inside joke between themselves. Lois and Clark looked very much the greatest of friends that she and Clark had once been. She was about to retire when a memorable rhythm greeted her ears. "Mm, I love this song." She said, almost to herself.

"Go on Smallville, take my little cousin for a dance." Lois grinned, sure that Chloe had been hoping for some time alone with her high school crush ever since she had arrived. Clark of course, saw straight through Lois' plan, but frankly didn't mind. Setting down his glass, he held his hand out. "Chloe, would you like to dance?"

"Yes!" Chloe almost yelped, blushing with the excitement. "Oh, but, Lois I don't want to leave you by yourself…"

"Nah, go ahead, I'll be fine, really." Her cousin replied with a wave of her hand. Clark led Chloe towards the dance floor and pulled her close. "Yep. Fine." Lois reaffirmed, as she watched Chloe wrap her arms round Clark's strong shoulders. "Fine, fine, fine."

The music drifted gently down, moving Chloe's two left feet along with it. She let Clark guide her across the floor; he was a much better dancer than she'd remember, but, she supposed, when you travel the world it's hard not to pick up a few dancing tips. As she draped her arms around Clark's neck, she felt fifteen all over again. She liked the feeling, she felt safe, warm. She felt like she was falling in love all over again. Her starry green eyes looked up to meet his blue ones, but found that they weren't there to meet. Chloe glanced round to follow Clark's line of sight, and saw her black-silk clad cousin, still standing by the buffet table. Suddenly the feeling evaporated, and Chloe knew that she'd already had her chance, now it was someone else's.

"She seems different." Chloe said, distracting herself from her feelings.

"Trust me when I tell you not to say that to her face." Her dance partner laughed back.

"Yeah, I'd heard about that. So," She glanced around cautiously, picking her next words with care. "How's the, er, _volunteer work_ doing?"

"Well, the hours are long, and the pay's not great." Clark answered with mock seriousness. "Not in any material way anyway."

"And you expect me to believe that?" Chloe joked back as she continued to waltz. "Still, it must be fun. I mean, let's face it Clark, you've always been good at it." Her naïve laughter stopped when she realised that Clark's face had become more solemn.

"It's a bit different now Chlo." He said kindly but simply, forgiving her innocence. But as Chloe looked up to him, her face pressed him to go on: ever the inquisitive. He sighed. "Sometimes it all just feels like a dream. I keep expecting someone to wake me up."

It was Chloe's turn to be solemn, as the profundity of Clark's words dawned on her. He was right, there probably was a difference between saving her from a car crash and saving those whom the weight of the world had crushed. "Can I just nod understandingly?" She asked, not sure of what else she could say.

"Sure Chlo." He smiled back at her, as they continued to dance.

Away behind the dance floor Lois stood playing with her glass. She traced the rim with her finger, unable to shake the sudden inexplicable loneliness. She sighed, reached for another bottle, stopped, thought about it, and put it back down; the quick fix wouldn't be worth the hangover, especially as she had to be up at the crack of dawn.

"Lois! I didn't know you and Clark had arrived."

Lois' head shot up, and she smiled as she saw Martha walking towards her. "Yeah, just got here." She grinned. "But if Lana or Pete ask, we've been with you the whole time."

"Well, I'm not sure about _that_." Martha laughed as she looked over to her son and Chloe, who had just managed to trip over her dress. "Just like old times, they still look good together."

"Yeah, Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-_Dumb." _Lois caught herself and blushed. "I'm sorry, that was _cynical_ of me. It's the wine, plus I need to pee."

"Oh, well." Martha had forgotten how abrupt Lois could be. "I could do with _powdering my nose_ too." Martha said cheerfully.

The two woman walked off arm in arm, but were soon replaced by another woman, one who had a dignified beauty; she was slender and tall, with dark shiny hair and eyes to match with a face most men would find it hard to forget.

"So, tomorrow's the big day." She sighed to herself, obviously in lack of someone else to talk to. "Still, you know what they say, better late than never. I mean call me old fashioned, but I'd always though the honourable thing for a man to do was to marry the woman _before_ she gave birth to his daughter."

If anyone had over heard this little monologue they may have better understood why Lana hardly ever mentioned her mother's sister.

* * *

The evening wore on without cause for infamy. The meal was eaten and the speeches were greeted with warm applause. The once tall candles now dripped down over the bottles that housed them and the music quietened to match the more subdued mood.

At one of the tables, two cousins sat sipping what was left of their drinks, giggling to themselves as they evaluated the night they had just had.

"Lo?" Chloe said, gazing wondrously at the shiny spoon Lois had managed to balance on her nose.

"Yep?"

"I think," Chloe continued, slurring her words. "An' this is just an observation, but _I_ think, I might be just a bit drunk."

"You know what Chlo," Lois said, removing the spoon and putting it neatly back in her purse. "I think you are absolutely, absolutely," She stopped, took the spoon back out again and started looking frantically down at the floor. "_You_ are absolutely… right. Where'd _it_ go?"

"Your shoe?"

"No, no! _It!_ The t'ing, you know the _t'ing_." Lois tried to explain. "The tall, dark, handsome t'ing."

"Clark?"

"No, not _that_ t'ing."

"Smallville?"

"Yep, yep. That's the one. Where'd he go, that one."

"Lois, I'm right behind you." Clark sighed leaning on the table adjacent to the two girls'.

"What! No, no he's not." Lois continued, looking round. "Not behind, not behind me… But wait because, yes. Maybe. There. You. Are."

"Lois, you're drunk." Said Clark.

"No, no, no, no. Not drunk. I don't get drunk, I can't get drunk. I mean look, look at this, this… Beetroot Liqueur! Children's booze! I can't get drunk on this. Not drunk, not, not…" Lois continued to rant as Chloe burst into a fit of giggles at her cousin's stubborn denial. "See? Look, you've started her off. Bad Smallville, bad, bad. Is all bad. You shut her up while I go throw, throw up in my handbag." Lois stumbled off her chair and headed over to the back exit, leaving Clark to watch over the rather flippant Chloe.

"He he, she likes you." Chloe giggled.

"Chloe, _you're_ drunk." Clark said pointedly, mentally counting to ten.

"Yes, yes I am." Chloe stood up with defiance. "But you know what, I don't care. Nope, nope. Booze! Cake! **Pete**!" She cried as he walked over. "Pete, Pete, Pete. _Are you drunk?_"

"'Fraid not so Chlo. Keeping Mom and Nell apart requires complete sobriety." Pete laughed half-heartedly, casting himself down on the vacant seat.

"Get Clark to do it!" Chloe piped in suddenly, her eyes giddy with excitement. "He's like Super-Designated-Driver… _Okay_… I'm just gonna go see if Lois had any room left in her purse."

The two men watched the second of their _jubilant_ friends head for the backdoor, although Lois had been the only one who remembered how to use a door handle.

"They seem pretty wasted." Pete said, examining the empty wine bottle.

"You should have seen them at Chloe's twenty-first. Lois took her to a Bon Jovi concert; they were livin' on aspirin for the next week." Clark laughed sitting down next to his friend. "So, how'd you manage parole?"

"Lana said Nell's headin off. Figure they can't kill each other if one of them's not here."

"You'd be surprised."

Just then, Pete saw a familiar figure storming over towards him, eyes blazing in a face like thunder.

"Peter!" It called.

"_Save me_." He whispered quickly.

"But it's my night off." Clark jokingly reasoned.

"Peter, there you are." Nell said, standing menacingly over the young man. "I swear to God, you invite me to this, _evening_ of yours and you don't even bother putting an appearance in."

"I'm sorry Nell." Pete muttered. "I was just…Just…"

"Just what exactly? Entertaining your guests, of which _I_ am? Looking after your daughter, who happened to fall asleep under a table? Just exactly doing _what_ I ask." Nell snorted. "Typical politician, all talk no action. What Lana sees in such a self-important, unappreciative-"

"Actually Nell, Pete was just looking after some ill friends of ours." Clark tactfully leapt in. "I just came over to see how he was coping."

"Really? Is that so? Well then, in that case why was-"

"Nell?" She was interrupted again as her beautiful niece walked over in her velvet pink dress, apprehension written on her face. "I thought you'd left."

"I was about to Lana, until I stumbled across the _mistake_ you were about to make."

"_About_ to make?" Lana asked.

"I am not about to let my only sister's only daughter go into the hands of some cowardly commitment-phobic with the family values of a rattle snake!"

"Nell, to be fair-" Clark started until he was cut off.

"Oh, you're a fine one to talk Clark, leaving that poor mother of yours to run that farm all by herself while you go gallivanting about the city working for your pompous piece of liberal propaganda!"

"What's going on here then?" Lois called over as she and Chloe wondered back over to their table, considerably more sober than when they had left it.

"With your piece of city floozy!" Nell snapped violently gesturing to the older of the two cousins.

"Actually, I prefer city totti." Lois replied with a smirk. "And _you_ must be the nutty aunt. Nice to meet you Em."

"_Lois." _Clark whispered urgently, trying to get the other reporter to back down.

"My name is _Nell_."

"_Well, I won't tell Dorothy here if you don't." _Lois mocked, not heeding her partner's warning.

"What right do you have to talk to me like that!"

"Actually, _Nelly_, what right do you have to talk to me like _that_? You see _this,_" Lois gestured around the room with her hands. "Meant to be a _happy_ occasion. You, not so happy. So, this is what you're gonna do, you're gonna apologise to Pete and Lana and then you're gonna go get sobered up a long, long way away from here."

"I recommend the car park." Chloe piped in, still slightly off balance.

"Not now Chlo."

"You can't tell me what to do." Nell said squaring up to the taller Lois in a very intimidating way. "I've raised this woman since she was knee high. I know what's best for her."

"Nell, please." Lana pleaded, trying to keep the peace.

"Hm." Lois sighed undaunted. "You know, amazingly enough, I don't give a shit."

"You arrogant little girl. You want me to sink down to your level, fine. I can speak my mind just as clearly."

"Aw, you're just jealous cause the little voices are talking to me." Lois smirked.

"You want to know what I really think? I think this whole wedding is one big farce!"

The sound of glass shattering on the floor snapped Lois and Nell out of their warpath. Everyone turned to see Lana stood shaking, tears in her eyes. She stared disbelievingly at her aunt and then turned and ran, betrayed, out of the restaurant.

"Lana." Pete called about to run after her when a small hand reached up and grabbed his. "Daddy, what's going on?" A sleepy little voice asked. Chloe went over, picked the little girl up in her arms, and whispered some words of comfort to Pete.

Lois glared venomously at the aunt and guiltily whispered to Clark: "I'll go get here."

"I think that's for the best." He whispered back as Lois turned and hurried out of the restaurant herself.

At the same time, unnoticed by anyone else, another figure quietly snuck into the dark gloom of the night.

* * *

**A/N:** Firstly, I realise that my Nell might seem like the Wicked Witch of the West, but if you think back through her history of lying to/not telling Lana about rather important facts, and her snide remark to Martha about tulips, you'll realise I'm probably not that far off the mark.

Also, at the risk of being sued, _always remember to drink responsibly_ and do not get yourself into the state Lois and Chloe managed to get themselves into, and if you _do_ get into that state, stay way from trampolines… Trust me on this one…


	7. Cloven

'_Don't make us make imaginary evils, when you know we have so many real ones to encounter.'_

Oliver Goldsmith

* * *

"Lana?" Lois called, as she turned around yet another corner in the seemingly endless labyrinth of alleyways and back streets, her only guiding light the occasional shimmer of pink to lead the way. The stars were veiled behind the thick cloud, but the murky moonlight shone down on everything with a silvery shadow, giving illumination where the streetlights would not reach.

As she turned around another bend the hard sloes of her shoes shot pains of agony into her feet, but Lois' mind was too preoccupied to take heed. She carried on running, until again, her eyes caught the aurora like flicker of pink velvet. "Lana!" She called again. "Lana, wait up. Lana wait –"

"I have nothing to say to you." The other woman snapped as she spun on her heel to face her pursuer, her cheeks still stained with the trace of tears.

"Well, _that's_ a bit harsh." Lois protested. "What the hell did I do anyway?"

"You know full well what you did Lois." Lana said, glaring at Lois.

"Oh, I do, do I?" Lois said curtly back. "Well, let us see, _what could I have possibly done to tick Lana off soo much_? Let us see. I stood up for her when she was blatantly being subjected to abuse, _how terrible of me_. I managed to bring to light a rather critical piece of information about the fickle nature of her family members. But, you know, so what. You're absolutely right; I'm the bad gut here and _she_'s a bloody saint."

"_She _is my aunt. _She's_ taken care of me my entire life. _She_ only has my best interests at heart –"

"Which is peculiar when you consider the fact that she obviously _not got one_!" Lois shot back. "Just out of idle curiosity, were you even _listening_ to the same conversation as the rest of us, or did you go for a nice short break in your Happy Place? She accused your wedding of being a farce Lana. Now, to me, that doesn't exactly scream of motherly affection."

"And of course you know all about _that_ don't you Lois. I'm sorry we weren't all brought up on a diet of military payrolls and tough guy facades, but some of us actually like our families. And we keep our noses out of other people's business. And we _don't_ go about making such a scene!"

"Oh, I'm sorry, _I_ caused a scene?" Lois laughed disbelievingly. "Lana Lang is actually accusing someone else of causing a scene. Oh, that's rich."

"Who the hell do you think you are?" Lana said, striding up to stare Lois straight in the face.

"The last time I checked?" Lois answered calmly. "Still Lois. But _you_? You seem to have morphed into your aunt. Not another possession I hope. We've only jus heard the end _of the last one!_"

"Tell me, do you have the need to get yourself thrown off skyscrapers to fuel your adrenaline addiction, or to get you five-minutes-of-fame-fix? Or, here's a good one," Lana laughed through her anger. "How about your compulsive desire to always be the damsel in distress!"

"The mouth flaps and the eyes move but Ms. Brain had long since departed. Hasn't she Lana?"

"You think you're so smart."

"Not true." Lois said. "I don't think I'm so smart, I know so. You see hun, you've got your nouns and your verbs all mixed up. I'm not a damsel in distress; I'm a distressing damsel. All part of my charm."

"Yeah." Lana sneered. "Half pain in the ass. Half military whore. All _bitch_."

"Yep, that sounds about right." Lois said, nodding her head and looking to the sky. "Hey, where're you going now?" She shouted as she looked back down to where Lana had been standing."

"Away from you." The other woman shouted over her shoulder as she stormed around the corner and out of the alley.

"Yeah, cause that's _real_ mature." Lois found herself yelling somewhat hypocritically. "You know, Nell really _was_ wrong; you _do_ make a _great_ role model for Laura." Lois stood expecting some retaliation, but none came. "Fine then," She eventually cried irritably. "F-off! Just leaves more cake for the rest of us………Lana?" She called again but got no answer. Lois picked up her dragging dress and ran down the dark alley and around the bend: "Lana! Lan-"

She stopped dead in her tracks. Lana stood frozen just feet in front of her. And before Lana stood one man and a gun. In his eyes, a confident conviction blazed. He grinned menacingly as he gestured to Lois with the gun over to where Lana was standing. Lois slowly and calmly walked over to her friend and took Lana's hand in her own. "_Why's it always a maniac with a gun?" _She whispered softly.

"I'd re-think your definition of maniac if I were you Miss Lane." The man said, bring his left hand up to join his right on the gun. "And I'd consider the manner of your address." He grinned. "Otherwise something _untoward_ might happen." He cocked his aim and pulled the trigger. The speeding piece of metal flew past Lois' arm, but no sound of the shot was heard.

"You missed." Said Lois. Besides her, she could feel Lana shaking, and squeezed her hand a little harder, letting go of some of her own fears at the same time.

"Perhaps you would like me to stand a bit closer next time." He said, re-aiming the gun.

"_Lois, for the love of God don't say yes." _Lana hissed desperately.

"Alright. Why not?" Lois smiled to their assailant.

"_What?"_

"Brave, but, foolish Miss Lane." He grinned as he stepped towards the two women. "You should just be grateful I've been given orders not to kill you."

"Well, isn't _that_ funny." Lois shot back. "I've been given orders not to kill you. Pity, when you're so eager to close the proximity. That was, _brave, but, foolish._"

Like a flash, Lois pushed Lana back, spun round and kicked the gun from the man's hand, coming to a halt facing him, her eyes fixed, she grinned haughtily. Incensed, he lunged at her snarling like a beast. Lois swapped her footing and spun around once more, the force of her rotating body smashing in the attacker's stomach through her leg. Winded, he fell in a heap to the floor. He glared up at Lois with murderous eyes, when suddenly he fell faint under the power of the blow that had just struck his head.

Lana stood back, an old drain pipe in her hand; relieved she smiled up at Lois. "You think he's dead?"

"Don't know." Lois sighed thankful. "Sure as Hell don't care."

"We need to get back." Lana said, throwing aside the pipe as she headed back to the alleyway.

"You're telling m-**AH**!" Lois screamed as she crumbled to the floor, her hands shaking as she pulled out the knife that was impaled in her leg. As she looked up a forceful fist hit the side of her face, knocking her unconscious.

"Lois!" Lana screamed as her friend fell limb to the ground. The man looked up and pounced towards her, but Lana skilfully evaded his grasp and set off down the alley with all the speed she could muster. Adrenaline soared through her veins as she sprinted down the dark streets, her only goal to get back to the restaurant.

All of a sudden, she felt herself jerk forward and tumble to the ground, the man clutching to the hem of her dress. He forced himself on top of her, pinning her down between his legs. In all the madness, a name suddenly popped in Lana's panicked head. She took a deep breath and screamed: "Clar-" His hands had smothered her mouth and nose. As her brain struggled for air, she heard him say. "Trust me when I tell you, this is for your own good Miss Lang." She fell into darkness.

* * *

The ceaseless ringing in Lana's head slowly brought her back to consciousness. Instinctively, she leaned over to smash the alarm clock, but instead, rolled straight off the bed and on to the cold, hard floor. Memories flooded back to her and she leapt horrified to her feet. _Where am I?_

She looked around. The room she was in couldn't have been more than two and a half meters in length, and one and a half in width. Pushed against the two side walls were the sort of beds Lana had only seen in military camps, or civil war movies. The walls were grey concrete, hard and bumpy, without a single window. The only light came from a bare lamp bulb hanging from the ceiling, which reflected off the dark steel door. Lana shivered and rubbed her bare arms as she looked down to the other occupant of the room. Lois lay, slumped on the other bed; the murky white sheets stained with blood from the still gapping cut in her leg.

Softly Lana sat down by her head and stroked the hair off her friend's face. "Lois." She whispered. "Lois, are you awake?"

"Mmm…" Her friend said sleepily, rolling over on her side.

"Lois, please wake up."

Lazily Lois batted her eyes open, groaned, and slowly sat up with her hands to her head. "Urg," She muttered. "My head feels like there's a Thanagarian living in it. Ah!" She reached down to her wounded leg, delicately feeling the sodden flesh. "What happened?" She asked.

"Don't you remember?"

"Lana, I'm having trouble remembering my own name. How much did we drink last night?"

"Well, we – _I_ didn't drink anything." Lana said. "Lois, I think we've been kidnapped."

"Either that or this is a _really_ crappy hotel room." Lois said, slowly standing up. She flinched at the pain, but continued to stand firm. "How long have we been here?"

"I, I don't know. I, I…" Lana let of a sudden sob and broke down in stream of tears, her hands cupping her sorry head. "Oh Lois, this is all wrong. I'm not meant to be here. I'm meant to be getting married, and instead…" She sobbed again. "God, I hope Laura's okay. And what about Pete? What will he be thinking? What if they don't know what's happened? We have to get out of here. We have to, have to…"

"I don't think that's an option." Lois muttered as she hobbled over to the other side of the cell.

"What do you mean"? Lana sniffed.

"You see any windows?" Lois gestured. "No, I didn't think so. And the hinges on the door must be on the other side. The concrete on the walls looks quite thin, but it's not _that_ cold, so I'm guessing the walls are fortified somehow. And, come to think of it, that thing you smell; earth. My guess is, we're under it."

"So you're saying we're stuck."

"For the time being, yes, we are."

"Oh God." Lana sighed as fresh tears escaped her eyes. "What am I going to do?"

"Well," Lois said, sitting down on the other bed. "It's Valentine's Day right? I suggest we recount boyfriend horror stories. Like, _there was the one time, at band camp and_… What?" Lois asked as Lana glared contemptuously at her. "Just trying to lighten the mood." She muttered.

"Well, you have to excuse me for not feeling very _lighten_ at the moment." Lana sneered. "In case you haven't noticed, this isn't the most appropriate time."

"I beg to differ." Lois said. "See, the way I see it, it's times like these you have to be the most light-hearted, otherwise it's kinda like telling them," She nodded to the door. "They've already beaten you."

"This isn't some sort of twisted game of strategies Lois!"

"Well it's not exactly the Miss World beauty pageant either is it?"

"What are you saying?"

"What I'm sayin' is that sittin' here cryin' and feeling sorry for yourself ain't gonna make the whole experience any chirpier."

"So I should just pretend that I'm not upset that I'm missing the happiest day of my life!" Lana cried.

"No, what I'm _is,_ you're not helping yourself by showing that it bothers you so much." Lois said.

"This is _great_." Lana sneered. "I'm getting emotional counselling off the emotional retard. Tell me Lois, when was the last time you told someone what you were really feeling."

"I-" Lois started defiantly, when the words lost her. Her mind brought up a memory she'd long been trying to suppress.

_She stood shivering on the roof of her apartment building. The vicious wind blew the icy rain all over her frozen body. Her voice cracked, she wished it hadn't: "You know, all the powers, all the risks, it's all just superficial. Deep down I'm just a girl, staring in front of a boy, asking him to love her."_

"Lois, I'm –" 

"-Sorry" She breathed, back in the cell.

"Sorry about what?" Lana scoffed. "You know Lois, I misjudged you; it's not that you can't talk about your emotions, it that you don't have any in the first place." She looked over to Lois' sad and distant face and woefully misinterpreted it. "What's this? Don't tell me I've managed to silence to infamous wit of Lois Lane. Oh, this _is_ great." She laughed. "If I'd have known how, I would have done it years ago. Perhaps we'll finally now be able to have a conversation without the sarcastic gibes, or the snide remarks. What do you think about that Lo?"

"I'm sorry." Lois reiterated quietly.

"Pardon."

"I'm sorry." She said again. "I'm sorry I ever considered being civil to you, you self-obsessed little tart! I'm sorry you feel that just because your mommy and your daddy died it gives you a get out of jail free card to other's suffering! And I'm sorry you're a blind-eyed, vanity stroon, inharmonious, enigma!"

"You know, I'd be angry with you if I didn't feel so sorry for you." Lana said with a calm anger. "How does it feel knowing that you'll never really be loved?"

"'_I had rather hear my dog bark at a crow than a man swear he loves me._'" Lois said with a passing quote.

"You know what Lois." Said Lana. "I just don't care anymore. I might not be as _clever_ or _confident_ or _cocky_ as you, but I know one thing you don't. I know that when I die I won't be alone. And I know when a man loves m-"

Lana was cut short at the sound of keys in a lock. Both woman stood and turned to face the door. "I wouldn't be so sure of that first pearl of wisdom." Lois muttered, as the door swung open, to reveal two military clad men, both heavily armed. "I'm guessing you're not room service." Lois said hopefully. The two men glared at er and then proceeded to herd her and Lana out of the small room and into a stark white hall way. "I didn't think so." Lois muttered.

* * *

**A/N:** Lana had something of a bad press in this chapter; it's just a convention of mine. She's had a hard time, I promise that soon, you'll all like her a lot more. Also, I have coursework, homework, essays and Christmas to content with, so if I'm a bit slow updating, it's only because I want to put out a high standard of story. T'is better to wait than to rush.

**Disclaimer:** Come to think of it, I _do_ own the character of Laura Lang Ross, but if anyone for some bizarre reason would like to use her, feel free.


	8. Condolence

'_Hope begins in the dark;_

_The stubborn hope that if you just show up and try to do the right thing, the dawn will come._

_You wait and watch and work:_

_You don't give up.'_

Anne Lamott

* * *

The Sun had finally completed her lazy strolled around the world and, rested and revigourated, once again lifted her head in the east. Her rays would not regain their warmth for many months, so in the cold, crisp first light of day, most eyes in Smallville were still tightly closed, most of the eyes were still asleep, most…

"Were you able to find anything?" Chloe called out as she wrapped her woollen cardigan tightly around her waist and rushed down the path from the house to the Kent Farm drive.

"Only this." Clark said, holding up a small, warped piece of silver.

It had been an hour before anyone had noticed that Lois and Lana hadn't come back, and another hour until this noticed turned into concern. Chloe had said they'd probably made up and gone for a drink somewhere out of town, Clark had agreed, Pete had submitted. And two hours, as any forensic nut-job will tell you, is more than enough time to cover any tracks that need covering.

The only thing said nut-job didn't count on was the arrival on the scene of the World's, and most probably the Universe's number one forensic scientist. As it was, the Smallville Police department were also somewhat taken back to discover they'd be getting help in this particular missing person's case from Superman himself. Yes Superman was great and good, but he was also like a mental breakdown or a high-speed train crash, only happening in the big cities, not quiet little all American towns.

If Clark was being truthful, something which he tended to either do to one extreme or the other, he'd had said he'd rather leave the tights and cape in Metropolis. In Metropolis somehow it was easier to be a somebody, without feeling like a somebody. Everybody knew who Superman was, but like a mental breakdown down or honking car horns he was part of Metropolis, a much better part granted, but all part of the same parcel. Back home in Smallville Big Blue really did stand out like a sore thumb.

"Lois' earring?" Chloe took the silver lump from Clark's hand and held it up to the early morning sun.

"Or what's left of it. It look's like something's struck it pretty hard."

"Do you think they were attacked."

"Knowing Lois I wouldn't be surprised. Lana though…"

That was the puzzle. Lois hand a list of enemy's that dwarfed even his, (which was pretty impressive when you consider all she had was her pen and notepad to make them with) but who would want to hurt Lana?

"Do you think it could have been one of Pete's critics?" Chloe said. "You know, some right-leaning red neck with a grudge?"

"That would account for Lois too, but I don't think Pete's done anything that controversial."

"I dunno. A Black congressmen, child outside of marriage, it could rattle a few cages."

"And Lois?"

"Oh please, Miss _Godless-Commie-Scum_. Who has she not offended?"

"Lois is a commie?"

"She went through a phase. The whole teenage-rebellion thing. Really pissed the General off that's for sure."

"Either way…" Something still didn't quite add up, Clark knew it, Chloe knew it, the only thing that was left to do was to tell the two people who at that moment didn't know anything.

hr 

Pete hadn't always loved Lana, in fact for most of his childhood he'd thought her so out of his league he wasn't mentally capable of loving her. In his heart of hearts he'd always imagined he'd marry Chloe, good old Chloe who was always there for him, not because she loved him or he loved her, but just because.

Clark was going to marry Lana. Clark was built like a Spartan and Lana was as beautiful as Helen of Troy. It was their job to marry one another and populate some new, beautiful world.

But now Pete was going to marry Lana, and the thought made him happier than any thought ever had. He loved her with all his soul and yet…

Ah yes, and yet. And yet he couldn't help shake the feeling that somehow he'd cheated the system, somehow things weren't quite how they ought to be. They'd had a one-night stand, nine months later Laura was born, three years later they were to be married.

In the perfect world Lana should have been marrying Clark, and try as he might, Pete couldn't help but think that's how she felt.

That's why he wasn't surprised to find her gone. In many ways he'd been expecting it, ever since he turned on the television six months ago to see a face he hadn't seen in almost six years. It was the face of a hero, and heroes, as we know, always get the girl.

But this theory had a spanner in its works, in fact all of Pete's theories seemed to have one particular spanner in their works. This spanner was stubborn, over-caffeinated and over-opinionated. If Lana really had run away from their relationship, why had she chosen to do it with Lois Lane? Surely she wouldn't buy into the whole Thelma and Louise thing with a woman who, for all intents and purposes was her biggest rival?

Pete liked Lois, from what he'd seen of her she was a little rough around the edges but her heart was in the right place, and since she was essentially keeping him in a steady relationship by being the object of all Clark's desires, he really couldn't say a bad thing about her. Lana, he knew, didn't like Lois, she didn't like Lois at lot despite outward appearances. So then why would she run off with her?

Before Pete could draw up his own conclusions Chloe and (a bespectacled) Clark entered the living room where he and Martha had been sitting, waiting for any news.

Martha slowly, and with shaking hands, put her mug down. "Well?"

"All we could find is this." Clark said holding his hand out.

"What is it?"

"We think it's Lois' earring."

"But it's pretty mangled up." Chloe piped in. "We think something must have hit her."

"Oh I don't think Lana would do something like that."

"No Mom, not Lana."

"Why not Lana?" This was the first time Pete had spoken since he entered the house, so it was no surprise when everyone jumped upon hearing his voice. He sat hunched up in the old worn armchair, his arms cradling his head. "Why not Lana?"

"Pete, with all due respect I really don't think-" Clark started.

"You really don't think what, that Lana could do that? Well what do you know Clark? What the fuck do you know!?"

"Pete!" Martha cried.

"It's okay Mom. Maybe we'd be better discussing this in the morning."

"Yeah you're right Clark." Pete sneered. "You're always right, it's like second fucking nature to you. It's so easy you flouncing around on your moral high ground, but you know what, back here down on Earth people do get annoyed, they do hit each other, they do run off!"

"I-I really don't think Lana ran off Pete. I –"

"Shut it Chloe!"

Chloe closed her mouth and bit back a sob.

"You know what Pete, you're right." Clark said calmly while silently motioning to Martha to get Chloe out of the room. "But if you have a problem with me, don't take it out on Chloe." He sat down on the coffee table. Pete looked up, their eyes met. Chloe and Martha had left the room.

"You had to do it didn't you, you had to go off and become the hero. You were never happy unless you were saving someone. You had to go out there and get your face plastered over every channel. You had to remind her that she was with me and not you."

"Go on."

"Go on! Go on what? Go on about how she'd almost forgotten, the odd postcard from Mexico aside, go on about how she'd almost forgotten you. But maybe you couldn't stand that thought hey Clark? Maybe you couldn't stand to think that Lana could forget you because of some ordinary - ordinary –"

"Go on."

"Some ordinary human."

Clark took in a deep breath and leaned back. "Well, I'm sorry you feel like that. Certainly when I first decided to _come out_ Lana wasn't exactly at the forefront of my mind, but if you feel like I'm somehow publicly attacking you, then I am very, very sorry. It's true that, were I still with Lana, I don't think Superman would exist. But then neither would this Clark Kent and then who would Lana love? Lana stopped loving me at exactly the same time as I stopped loving her. She loves you Pete, very much." 

"No she doesn't!" Pete wailed. "She loves you. She never stopped loving you."

"_And I can't help but wish - I can't help but wish he'd spoken to me sooner. Everything could have been so different."_

If Clark was being truthful…

"No Pete, she loves you."

"Really?"

"Really."

But being truthful was something Clark tended to do to either one extreme or the other.

"I just – I just…"

"I know Pete, I know."

The smaller man fell into the larger's arms, just like the smaller boy did when the teasing had stopped, the bullies had run off and his best friend had been there to save the day.

* * *

**A/N: **An update? Oh dear God!!! Just how long has it been? No, don't tell me. Anyway I'm very, very sorry to all of you out there you've waited so patiently. I've had writer's block on this story to the nth degree but I think, I hope I'm back on track with it now, (even though I've lost all my old notes, which is a bit of a bugger).

Anyway, I aim to have this finished now by the end of the summer, (which over here in Britain is currently very, very wet, so on beach to distract me). However, I'm afraid I've gone and done a bit of a Chloe and got myself a job at my local paper, the Daily Post (The DP! The DP! lol) so I might need the odd kick up the bum to get me writing on time, so please feel free to e-mail me, I love speaking to new people.

**A/N 2:** On a separate note I've rewritten a couple of chapters, just to take Jonathon out now that he's officially six feet under. There's just gonna be an added layer of angst in there at somewhere: I'll work with it.

**A/N 3:** Final note, I've not proof read this chapter, so please point anything out to me and I'll try and change it.

**Disclaimer: **Not only do I not own the rights to SV, no British channel does anymore. I've not seen any of Season 6 and I am not happy:(


	9. Enmity

'_It is usually when men are at their most religious that they behave with the least sense and the greatest cruelty.'_

Ilka Chase

* * *

Lois had been six years old when she stopped believing in God. She stopped believing in a lot of things at that time, but God was definitely the biggest thing to go. She didn't tell her father for another ten years, and so for every Sunday of that decade she would put on her best clothes and her best mask and pretend she believed the stories, the hymns, the prayers: pretended she believed it could only get better. 

Lana, conversely, was three years old when she started believing in God: not in a big way, just an acknowledgement that he was there, watching over her, caring for her, loving her.

* * *

In his lavish palace, surrounded by halls and dorms of the purest white, The Authority was having something of an identity crisis. He knew that amonst his followers his will and word was infallible, but he also knew that one wrong step, one slip up and Mr. Luthor would have his guts quite literally for garters. 

It had seemed like such a good proposal when the head of LexCorp had first approached him. Mr. Luthor wanted more political influence, but his band of 'close friends' within government was beginning to have second thoughts over some of his more _radical_ beliefs. He was no fan of these 'super beings' that's for sure, and he seemed at express a genuine Christian concern for the souls of his fellow men. And he had deep pockets, _very_ deep pockets.

He had the deep pockets, they had increasing political clout: The Authority had said it himself, it was a match made in Heaven.

But then the rumours started: other 'close friends' of Lex Luthor's who had mysteriously vanished into the night, entire countries which had opposed his plans to build factories on their national soil being invaded by the UN taskforce. And then there was the rumour that Lex Luthor knew how to kill the biggest false prophet of them all, Superman.

While The Authority was not in the least bit against this plan he couldn't help but think that if Luthor could so easily get rid of a demi-god like Superman, what would he do to a mere mortal like himself.

Suffice to say The Authority knew who wore the pants in this particular relationship. That's why he knew he couldn't afford to slip up.

"William, what is the status update?"

"John and Patrick are escorting them to the main hall as we speak." The gangly youth replied.

"Excellent. And their condition?"

"The Mother appears only to be suffering from shock, but John reports he had to shoot the Whore before she could be seized."

"Anything serious?"

"No, just a wound to the leg Father."

"Excellent. Prepare my garment then. We must look at our best when we greet the ladies."

* * *

If there was one person in the world who was no stranger to military procedure it was Lois Lane. She had grown up in the US military, had close family friends in the British, Russian and Japanese military, and had read extensively, (mainly to annoy her father), about guerrilla warfare. All this taken into account, she was stumped. 

The corridors she and Lana were being led down were as white as snow, and the cold, stone flagged floor sent a shot of pain up her wounded leg every second step. Lana was in silent whimpers just ahead of her. Beside her though was the cause of her confusion.

The two 'escorts' were both decked out in military uniform, problem was, they weren't the same military. One seemed to be South African and the other was Cambodian, but both the men wearing them were as American as Apple Pie. And that was another thing; differences in uniforms aside, neither of them had what you may call a 'standard military hair cut', and each had more Christian jewellery on than the Pope.

Guerrilla groups tended to have to use whatever resources they could find, which would explain the odd uniforms, but no half-decent army organisation would tolerate long hair and golden crucifixes. Things here just didn't add up.

"So-" Lois began, but before she could finish another blow landed itself on her already fragile head. The Cambodian clad man glared at her, daring her to open her mouth again. He had a gun, she didn't. Lots of sums in Lois' mind mightn't have been making sense, but that one sure as Hell did.

In front of her Lana looked horrified. Lois, audibly, clamped her mouth shut and staggered on down the corridor; her wounded pride hurting a damn-site more than her wounded leg.

After about five minutes of this imposed silence the women were led to a corridor with two big oak doors at the other end. The Cambodian man glared at them again, then motioned with his gun towards the door.

Lana, still shaking, reached for Lois' hand. Lois, still nursing her wounded pride pulled hers away.

"You'll have to excuse me for not _quite_ being the damsel in distress just right now." She quietly sneered at Lana, who in return looked more hurt than anyone Lois could imagine.

Still, she was not in the habit of accepting pity, and as someone who would never tolerate displays of weakness from herself, she would certainly not tolerate it from others, especially if that other was Lana Lang.

The doors flew open and the two women were shepherded into the room on the other side. Only it wasn't a room, it was a hall: a hall as big as any cathedral's but as bare and spartan as a beggar's home. At the far end there was a slightly raised platform, and hanging above it, a cross of plain wood and standing beneath that an old man, rosy cheeked and plumped bellied, wearing a white robe lined with yellow thread. In any normal situation he wouldn't have looked much more than a beggar himself, but he was surrounded on all sides by a congregation wearing the tattered scraps of the world's armies. Compared to them, he looked like a king.

If Lana hadn't been scared before she entered the room, then the chorus of contemptuous boos and hisses that greeted her when she did would certainly have made up for the lost fright. As it was, she was scared: truly terrified. She'd been kidnapped before, yes, but that was usually by some single wacko-nut job, not a whole organisation of them. There was no way she could have counted all the number of men hurling abuse at her, but if she had to guess, she would easily have said five hundred.

She and Lois were pushed through the crowd and then forcibly shoved down onto the ground, just in front of the platform where the white-clad man was stood. Over the roaring in her ears Lana could hear cries of "Whores!", "Temptresses!" and "Infidels!", and yet she hadn't heard a sound from Lois since they had entered the room. It was as if she was saving herself up for something, something Lana had the feeling was going to get them both in a lot of trouble.

"Silence!" Called out the gangly youth who was stood just behind the white-clad man. "The Authority wishes to speak!"

And just like that, the room went quite. The Authority looked down at the two women kneeling before him and marked their very different facial expressions. One looked like thunder, the other lost innocence. They were just as he had thought they would be.

"My Brothers!" He began. "We stand today at a crossroads. One path is hard, the other easy. If we choose the easy path we shall witness the end of Christian civilisation as we know it, but if we choose the hard path we shall bring about a revolution that will see sin and temptation wiped from the face of the planet! This is the path we shall choose!"

A loud cheer went up from the congregation. Lana looked over to Lois, Lois looked back: both knew that this wasn't going to be good.

"But my Brothers," The Authority began again. "We are alone in our determination to rid the world of malice. Too many of our fellowmen have drunk from the Devil's fountain: we must save them from themselves before it is too late! We must show them the path of justice, we must show them the path of truth!"

Another cheer went up and the Authority stepped off his platform and walked slowly towards Lana and Lois.

"Brothers, we have here two examples of the evil in our society today. Firstly the Mother!" He said, turning to Lana. Lana turned her head away, she didn't want to look into those eyes, but it was no good, she felt his hand grasp her chin and turn her face towards him.

"A Miss Lana Lang. A Mother out of wedlock! A Mother whose blood mingled with one from that race that God made lesser! A Mother who-"

"No! No, I'm sorry but that's really going too far."

Lana caught the flash in the old man's eyes as he turned to his right. She couldn't see what had happened, but she knew: Lois had cracked.

"I mean _really_, there's a lot of things you could accuse Lana of. A _Hell_ of a lot of things, but being a mother really isn't one of them!"

"Ah, the Whore!" The Authority dropped Lana's head and grabbed Lois' in turn, forcing her eyes to look into his. "I was warned about you."

Lana knew she didn't have the strength to wrestle her way out of that grip, but she was surprised to find Lois struggling just as vainly against the power of an old man.

"Nice to see my reputation precedes me." Lois grunted, still struggling to free her head from that iron grip.

"Indeed it does my dear, indeed it does. My Brothers, here is one whose pretty face disguises the horror within! Sin herself is in our presence: _The Temptress, The Witch, The Whore!_ New Eve I name her, leading mankind evermore into the abyss of his fall.

Here is one who champions vice! Who says men can lie with men, while women paint their faces and practice their arts for money! Who says that the infidels should not burn and that science and blasphemy should pollute our children.

But before all this, she is an idolater of the highest kind! A wily serpent who will lead mankind to the false prophets and as such, to it's doom!"

Another chorus of booing went up.

"I don't know what your game is." Lois said still struggling. "But if you're hinting at what I think you're hinting at then you are hugely mistaken."

"See! Even now in the face of our goodness she defends these false saviours, these harbingers of doom!"

"In the face of your _goodness_? I see no goodness here, all I see is a bunch of fanatics with an attitude problem!"

"Heretic! Whore! Can you doubt the face of your salvation? Or are you already too lost to see the light we offer!"

"If you're the face of my salvation then I would rather be damned!"

"So you admit you have sinned! You admit you have aided these _Flashes_, these _Arrows_, these _Supermen _in their quest to corrupt mankind!"

"You really are deluded! Superman is here to _help_ mankind, not destroy it!"

"So you _do_ admit it! You _do_ have knowledge of this Devil!"

"_He's not a devil!_" Lois' frustration was starting to show: she could feel the tears stinging her eyes. She wanted nothing more than to turn her head away from those piercing eyes, but the Authority's hand still had her chin tightly gripped.

"_The adversary the Devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about!"_

"What?!"

"Even the Devil may appear as an Angel of Light! In this guise the Devil has clouded the judgment of man! Made him weak, made him feeble, made him forget who the true Messiah is! Idolater! Witch!

And yet you have done more! Even more to taint the pool of God's Chosen People! You and this, this, _Superbeing_!"

"No!" Lois grunted again.

"Yes!" The Authority cried, almost gleefully. "Admit it that you, Lois Lane, have _fornicated_ with this False Prophet!"

"_No!_"

"Yes!"

"_NO!"_

"Liar! Lair! Witch! Temptress! Whore!"

"NO! NO! _no_…" And there, in front of five hundred men, Lois Lane sobbed.

"You fornicated with an inhuman being!"

"No," She whispered again, lifting her head up. "We made love."

* * *

Lana could no longer hear the ringing in her ears. Beside her she saw the Authority contemptuously throw Lois' head out of his hand. She saw the other woman crumble into a heap on the ground, sobbing for her daemon lover. All about her she could see men hurling insults, abuse and curses but she could hear none of them. She couldn't hear the sobs, she couldn't hear the order to take them back to their cell. 

At that moment the only sound Lana could hear was: _"we made love."_

* * *


End file.
